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I  N     M  K  M  O  R  Y     <)  1-" 

WILLIAM   RAND  KENAN 

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9^  HEART/* 
SOLDIER 


VfaHEAKIfa 
S  OLDIER 


cAs  revealed  In  me 
Intimate  Letters  of 

Q»*  GEORGE  EHCKETT  QM 


Copyright  IQ13  by  Set  A  Moyle  {Inc.) 
Copyright  IQI2  by  the  Pictorial  Review  Company 
Copyright  IQ08  by  The  S.  S.  McClure  Company 


Eft  7. 1 


Published  h  SETH    MOYLE  UncorporaUd) 
NEW  YORK 


c 


FORE      WORD 


Tj*OR  half  a  century  these  letters  have  lain 
■*■  locked  away  from  the  world,  the  lines 
fading  upon  the  yellowed  pages,  their  every 
word  enshrined  in  the  heart  of  the  noble 
woman  to  whom  they  were  written.  To  her 
they  came  filled  with  the  thunder  of  guns, 
the  lightning  of  unsheathed  swords,  the  tu- 
multuous rage  in  the  heart  of  the  storm;  but 
through  them  all  the  radiance  of  a  pure  de- 
votion outshone  the  battle  flash  and  the  lyric 
of  a  great  love  rose  above  the  cannon's  roar. 
To  their  possessor,  naturally,  these  letters 
are  sacred  and  they  are  given  to  the  world 
with  great  reluctance.  It  is  only  the  thought 
of  the  inspiration  that  they  can  bring  to 
lives  less  glorious  than  that  of  him  who 
penned  them,  of  the  courage  they  can  instill 
into  hearts  less  brave,  that  has  led  their 
owner  to  share  them  with  the  world. 

Through  the  medium  of  this  volume, 
which  is  hereby  dedicated  to  the  Great  Sol- 
dier and  True  Man  who  supplied  its  con- 
tents, these  letters  are  given,  out  of  the 
hands  of  one  who  has  cherished  them  ten- 
derly for  many  years,  into  the  keeping  of  all 
those  who  honor  courage,  loyalty  and  the 
love  of  man  for  woman. 


CONTENTS 

PART  ONE 

PAGE 

I.     In  which  the  General  Tells  Why  He 

Sided  with  the  South      ....      33 
II.    Written  'After  a  Light  Skirmish  with 

the   Enemy 38 

III.  Concerning  Legitimate  Warfare,  Seces- 

sion  and   the  Mishaps   of  an    Old 
Major   of   Artillery 41 

IV.  In  Which  Are  Given  Certain  Details 

of  the  Battle  of  Seven  Pines    .      .      46 
VV.     Containing  a  Presentiment  of  Danger, 
the  Night  Before  He  Was  Wounded 

at  Gaines'  Mill 50 

VI.     At  His   Old  Home   Recovering  from 

His  Wound 52 

VII.     Mostly    Concerning    Bob,    His    Body- 
Servant      55 

VIII.     Written  Upon  His  Return  to  His  Old 

Command 58, 

IX.     On  the  Occasion  of  His  Promotion  to 
the  Rank  of  Major-General  —  Tell- 
ing of  Jackson  and  Garnett     .      .     61 
X.     From  the  Field  of  Fredericksburg      .     64 

PART  TWO 

XI.     From  His  Old  Home  on  the  Suffolk 

Expedition 69 

XII.     In    Which   He    Urges  His  Betrothed 

to  Marry  Him  at  Once     ...      73 


CONTENTS 

Continued 

PAGE 

XIII.  Warning  Her   to   Leave   the   Danger 

Zone 77 

XIV.  When  Lee  Crossed  the  Potomac  .      .      79 
XV.     On    the    Way    Through   Pennsylvania     81 

XVI.     Lines  Penned  on  the  Road  to  Gettys- 
burg      84 

XVII.     During  a  Halt  in  the  Long  March      .      88 
XVIII.     While    He    Awaited    the    Order    to 

Charge  at  Gettysburg    .      .      .      .91 
XIX.     Relating     Certain     Incidents     of     the 

Great  Battle 97 

XX.     Written  in  Sorrow  and  Defeat,  after 

the  Struggle 101 

XXI.     Containing    Further    Details    of    the 

Battle 104 

XXII.     On  the  Way  to  Richmond,  Guarding 

Prisoners  109 

PART  THREE 

XXIII.  In  Which  the  General  Issues  an  Order  117 

XXIV.  Written  After  Their  Marriage,  on  an 

Expedition  Into  North  Carolina      .    120 

XXV.     From  the  Lines  Near  Petersburg,  Va.   123 

XXVI.     In  the  Wilderness  Before  Cold  Harbor  127 

XXVII.     Recalling  a  Visit  from  "  Old  Jack  "     .    130 

XXVIII.     After  General  Lee  Had  Congratulated 

His  Division  for  Gallantry   .      .      .134 
XXIX.     When    Butler    Burned    the    General's 

Old  Home 138 


CONTENTS 

Continued 

PAGE 

PART  FOUR 
XXX.     Upon    Hearing    of    the   Birth    of    the 

"Little    General" 147 

XXXI.     A  Second  Letter  Written  on  His  Sons 

Birthday 150 

XXXII.     On  the  Occasion  of  His  First  Visit  to 

His  Boy 151 

XXXIII.  Upon    Returning    from   a  Ride   with 

" Marse  Robert" 153 

XXXIV.  Concerning  the  Gossip  of  His  Servant, 

George 155 

XXXV.     After  an  Evening  Spent  at  the  "  White 

House"   of  the   Confederacy     .      .162 
XXXVI.     In  the  Dark  Days  Before  the  End     .    167 
XXXVII.     Written   in   Defeat,  After  the  Battle 

of  Five  Forks 169 

XXXVIII.     A  Few  Hours  Before  Lee's  Surrender 

at  Appomattox 1 76 

PART  FIVE 
XXXIX.     In    which    the    General    Tells    of    a 
Trip   to    Washington   and   a    Visit 
with  his  old  Friend,  Grant  .      .      .183 
XL.     From   New   York,  after  refusing   the 

Command  of  the  Egyptian  Army   .    188 
XLI.     A  Letter  from  Turkey  Island,  during 

a  brief  absence  of  his  Wife  .      .      .191 
XLII.     Concerning  a  Slight  Illness  and   the 

Business    Troubles   of  a  Soldier    .   197 


0       N        T       E       N        T       S 

Continued 

PAGE 
XLIII.     On    the    Occasion    of    the    Memorial 
Services  in  Honor  of  those  who  died 

at   Gettysburg 203 

XLIV.     Written  while  away  from  Home,  after 

the  death  of  his  Youngest  Boy  .      .   208 


For  the  Introduction  to  this  book, 
credit  is  due  to  McClure's  Magazine, 
in    which    the   article   first   appeared. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

By     FRANKLIN     BOOTH 

Do  you  remember,  my  Sally,  how  many  times  we  said  Good- 
bye that  evening? 

"The  enemy  is  there,  General,  and  I  am  going  to  strike  him," 
said  Morse  Robert  in  his  firm,  quiet  voice. 

Two  lines  of  their  infantry  were  driven  back;  two  lines  of 
guns  were  taken  —  and  no  support  came. 

You  must  have  been  up  all  night,  my  prettice,  to  have  made 
up  and  sent  out  such  a  basket  of  goodies.  My,  I  tell  you,  it 
all  tasted  good. 


Do  you  remember,  my  Sally, 
hotv  many  times  ive  said  good- 
bye that  evening'? — Page  So. 


9^  HEART/* 
SOLDIER 

An  Introductory  Chapter 

from  the  One  to  Whom  these  Letters 

were  Written 

EARLY  in  life's  morning  I  knew  and 
loved  him,  and  from  my  first  meeting 
with  him  to  the  end,  I  always  called  him 
"Soldier"— "My  Soldier."  I  was  a  wee  bit 
of  a  girl  at  that  first  meeting.  I  had  been 
visiting  my  grandmother,  when  whooping- 
cough  broke  out  in  the  neighborhood,  and  she 
took  me  off  to  Old  Point  Comfort  to  visit  her 
friend,  Mrs.  Boykin,  the  sister  of  John  Y. 
Mason.  I  could  dance  and  sing  and  play 
games  and  was  made  much  of  by  the  other 
children  and  their  parents  there,  till  I  sud- 
denly developed  the  cough,  then  I  was 
shunned  and  isolated. 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

I  could  not  understand  the  change.  I 
would  press  my  face  against  the  ball-room 
window-panes  and  watch  the  merry-making 
inside  and  my  little  heart  would  almost  break. 
One  morning,  while  playing  alone  on  the 
beach,  I  saw  an  officer  lying  on  the  sand  read- 
ing, under  the  shelter  of  an  umbrella.  I  had 
noticed  him  several  times,  always  apart  from 
the  others,  and  very  sad.  I  could  imagine  but 
one  reason  for  his  desolation  and  in  pity  for 
him,  I  crept  under  his  umbrella  to  ask  him 
if  he,  too,  had  the  whooping-cough.  He 
smiled  and  answered  no;  but  as  I  still  per- 
sisted he  drew  me  to  him,  telling  me  that  he 
had  lost  someone  who  was  dear  to  him  and 
he  was  very  lonely. 

And  straightway,  without  so  much  as  a  by- 
your-leave,  I  promised  to  take  the  place  of  his 
dear  one  and  to  comfort  him  in  his  loss. 
Child  as  I  was,  I  believe  I  lost  my  heart  to 
him  on  the  spot.  At  all  events,  I  crept  from 
under  the  umbrella  pledged  to  Lieutenant 
George  E.  Pickett,  U.  S.  A.,  for  life  and  death, 
and  I  still  hold  most  sacred  a  little  ring  and 
locket  that  he  gave  me  on  that  day. 

It  is  small  wonder  that  this  first  picture  of 


THE    HEART   OF    Ar  SOLDIER 

him  is  among  the  most  vivid  still ;  the  memory 
of  him  as  he  lay  stretched  in  the  shade  of 
the  umbrella,  not  tall,  and  rather  slender,  but 
very  graceful,  and  perfect  in  manly  beauty. 
With  childish  appreciation,  I  particularly  no- 
ticed his  very  small  hands  and  feet.  He  had 
beautiful  gray  eyes  that  looked  at  me  through 
sunny  lights — eyes  that  smiled  with  his  lips. 
His  mustache  was  gallantly  curled.  His  hair 
was  exactly  the  color  of  mine,  dark  brown, 
and  long  and  wavy,  in  the  fashion  of  the  time. 
The  neatness  of  his  dress  attracted  even  a 
child's  admiration.  His  shirt-front  of  the 
finest  white  linen,  was  in  soft  puffs  and  ruf- 
fles, and  the  sleeves  were  edged  with  hem- 
stitched thread  cambric  ruffles.  He  would 
never,  to  the  end  of  his  life,  wear  the  stiff  linen 
collars  and  cuffs  and  stocks  which  came  into 
fashion  among  men.  While  he  was  at  West 
Point  he  paid  heavily  in  demerits  for  ob- 
stinacy in  refusing  to  wear  the  regulation 
stock.  Only  when  the  demerits  reached  the 
danger-point  would  he  temporarily  give  up 
his  soft  necktie. 

It  was  under  that  umbrella,  in  the  days  that 
followed,  that  I  learned,  while  he  guided  my 

3 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

hand,  to  make  my  first  letters  and  spell  my 
first  words.  They  were  "Sally"  and  "Sol- 
dier." I  remember,  too,  the  songs  he  used  to 
sing  me  in  the  clear,  rich  voice  of  which  his 
soldiers  were  so  fond,  frequently  accompany- 
ing himself  on  the  guitar.  He  kept  a  diary 
of  those  days  and  after  the  war  it  was  returned 
to  him  from  San  Juan  by  the  British  officer 
who  occupied  the  island  conjointly  with  him 
before  the  opening  of  the  war.  I  have  it  now 
in  my  possession. 

Three  years  after  our  first  meeting  I  saw 
my  Soldier  again.  He  had  just  received  his 
commission  as  captain,  and  was  recruiting  his 
company  at  Fortress  Monroe,  before  sailing 
for  San  Juan.  The  first  real  sorrow  of  my 
life  was  when  I  watched  the  St.  Louis  go  out 
to  sea  with  my  Soldier  on  board,  bound 
around  the  Horn  to  Puget  Sound,  where  he 
was  stationed  at  Fort  Bellingham,  which  I 
thought  must  be  farther  than  the  end  of  the 
world.  Forty  thousand  Indians  had  risen 
against  the  settlers.  For  two  years  he  was  in 
the  thick  of  it,  and  greatly  distinguished  him- 
self, but  he  did  even  better  after  the  Indians 
were  suppressed,  for  he  made  them  his  friends, 

4 


THE    HEART   OF    A    SOLDIER 

learned  their  languages,  built  school-houses 
for  them  and  taught  them,  and  they  called 
him  Nesika  Tyee — Our  Chief.  One  old  In- 
dian chief  insisted  upon  making  him  a  pres- 
ent of  one  of  his  children.  He  translated  the 
Lord's  Prayer  and  some  of  our  hymns  and  pa- 
triotic songs  into  their  jargon  and  taught  the 
Indians  to  sing  them.  He  taught  me  some  of 
them  afterward.  Years  later,  one  night  after 
the  Civil  War,  while  we  were  exiles  in  Mont- 
real, General  Pickett  and  I  were  singing  a 
hymn  in  Chinook  to  put  our  baby  to  sleep, 
when  a  voice  in  the  next  room  joined  us.  At 
the  close  of  the  hymn  a  stranger  came  and 
spoke  to  my  Soldier  in  Chinook.  When  he 
left,  he  invited  us  to  the  theater  where  he  was 
playing.  He  was  William  Florence,  and  he 
gave  me  my  first  taste  of  the  pleasures  of  the 
drama. 

Following  the  Indian  war,  the  quarrel  with 
the  British  over  the  ownership  of  San  Juan 
Island  reached  a  white  heat,  and  on  the  night 
of  July  26,  1859,  my  Soldier,  with  sixty-eight 
men,  was  sent  from  the  mainland  to  take  pos- 
session. They  were  none  too  soon,  for  when 
5 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

morning  dawned  there  were  five  British  war- 
ships off  the  coast,  with  nineteen  hundred  and 
forty  men  ready  to  land.  They  proposed 
joint  occupation,  but  Captain  Pickett  replied: 
"I  cannot  allow  joint  occupation  until  so 
ordered  by  my  commanding  general." 

The  English  captain  said:  "I  have  a 
thousand  men  ready  to  land  to-night." 

Captain  Pickett  replied:  "Captain,  if  you 
undertake  it,  I  will  fight  you  as  long  as  I  have 
a  man." 

"I  shall  land  at  once,"  said  the  British  offi- 
cer. 

"If  you  will  give  me  forty-eight  hours,  till 
I  hear  from  my  commanding  officer,  my  or- 
ders may  be  countermanded.  If  you  don't 
you  must  be  responsible  for  the  bloodshed  that 
will  follow." 

"Not  one  minute,"  was  the  English  cap- 
tain's reply. 

My  Soldier  gave  orders  for  the  drawing  up 
of  his  men  in  lines  on  the  hill  facing  the  beach 
where  the  English  must  land. 

6 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

"We  will  make  a  Bunker  Hill  of  it,  and 
don't  be  afraid  of  their  big  guns,"  he  said. 

In  his  official  report  General  Harney  said: 
"So  satisfied  were  the  British  officers  that  Cap- 
tain Pickett  would  carry  out  this  course,  that 
they  hesitated." 

The  United  States  retained  the  Island  and 
my  Soldier  remained  in  command  until  the 
outbreak  of  the  Civil  War.  But  when  Vir- 
ginia passed  the  Ordinance  of  Secession  he  re- 
signed his  commission  and  recognizing  the 
claims  of  his  native  state,  joined  his  fortunes 
with  those  of  the  Southland,  although,  like 
many  others  who  fought  as  bravely  against  the 
national  government  as  in  happier  times  they 
had  fought  for  it,  he  loved  the  Union  and 
every  star  in  that  flag  which  he  had  so  often 
borne  to  victory. 

My  Soldier  reached  Richmond  September 
13,  1 861,  and  at  once  enlisted  as  a  private. 
The  next  day  he  was  given  a  commission  as 
captain,  a  short  time  later  promoted  to  a  col- 
onelcy, and  early  in  1862  received  his  com- 
mission as  brigadier-general.  In  June,  while 
1 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

leading  his  brigade  in  a  charge  at  Gaines's 
Mill,  he  was  severely  wounded  in  the  shoul- 
der, but  refused  to  leave  the  field,  ordering 
Dr.  Chancellor  to  extract  the  bullet  on  the 
field.  The  surgeon  remonstrated,  but  he  said : 
"My  men  need  me  here,  Doctor.  Fix  me 
now." 

He  was  finally  carried  off,  but  was  back 
with  his  brigade  two  months  before  he  was 
able  to  draw  a  sleeve  over  the  wounded  arm. 

Time  has  not  lessened  the  fame  of  Pickett's 
Charge  at  Gettysburg,  and  it  never  will;  for 
the  changes  that  have  taken  place  in  the  sci- 
ence of  war  leave  no  possibility  that  future 
history  will  produce  its  counterpart.  Truly, 
"the  first  day  of  the  terrible  three  at  Gettys- 
burg was  an  accident,  the  second  a  blunder" 
and  the  third  the  greatest  tragedy  that  has 
ever  been  played  upon  the  stage  of  war. 
With  its  imperishable  glory — overshadowing 
all  other  events  in  martial  history,  notwith- 
standing its  appalling  disaster — is  linked  for- 
ever the  name  of  my  Soldier. 


8 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Down  the  slope  into  the  smoke-filled  valley 
the  devoted  men  followed  him  as  he  rode  in 
advance  upon  his  black  war-horse.  Their 
ranks  were  thinned  and  torn  and  shattered  by 
the  tempest  of  lead  which  from  every  side 
was  turned  on  them.  Smoke  and  flame  sur- 
rounded them.  But  from  the  rear  the  men 
sprang  to  fill  the  gaps  in  front  as  they  pressed 
after  their  leader  through  the  tempest  of  iron. 
Five  thousand  Virginians,  followed  him  at 
the  start;  but  when  the  Southern  flag  floated 
on  the  ridge,  in  less  than  half  an  hour,  not  two 
thousand  were  left  to  rally  beneath  it,  and 
those  for  only  one  glorious,  victory-intoxi- 
cated moment.  They  were  not  strong  enough 
to  hold  the  position  they  had  so  dearly  won; 
and,  broken-hearted,  even  at  the  very  moment 
of  his  immortal  triumph,  my  Soldier  led  his 
remaining  men  down  the  slope  again.  He 
dismounted  and  walked  beside  the  stretcher 
upon  which  General  Kemper,  one  of  his  offi- 
cers, was  being  carried,  fanning  him  and 
speaking  cheerfully  to  comfort  him  in  his  suf- 
fering. When  he  reached  Seminary  Ridge 
again  and  reported  to  General  Lee,  his  face 
9 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

was  wet  with  tears  as  he  pointed  to  the  crimson 
valley  and  said: 

"My  noble  division  lies  there!" 

"General  Pickett,"  said  the  commander, 
"you  and  your  men  have  covered  yourselves 
with  glory." 

"Not  all  the  glory  in  the  world,  General 
Lee,"  my  Soldier  replied,  "could  atone  for  the 
widows  and  orphans  this  day  has  made." 

Soon  after  the  great  battle  my  Soldier  con- 
fided to  his  corps  commander  his  intention  of 
marrying,  and  asked  for  a  furlough.  Gen- 
eral Longstreet  replied  that  they  were  not 
granting  furloughs  then,  but  added,  with  the 
twinkle  in  his  eye  which  those  who  knew  him 
so  well  will  remember:  "I  might  detail  you 
for  special  duty  and  you  could,  of  course,  stop 
off  and  get  married  if  you  wanted  to." 

In  old  St.  Paul's  Church  in  Petersburg, 
September  15,  1863,  we  were  married,  while 
the  bells  rang  out  the  chimes  that  still  make 
music  from  that  old  belfry  and  are  yet  known 

10 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

as  "Pickett's  Chimes."  In  the  throng  which 
crowded  the  church  and  extended  to  the  side- 
walk were  hundreds  whose  mourning  garb  at- 
tested to  the  costly  sacrifice  which  Petersburg 
had  given  to  the  South.  Many  hands  were 
reached  out  to  greet  my  Soldier,  and  from  the 
lips  of  many  a  black-robed  mother  came  the 
words :  "My  son  was  with  you  at  Gettysburg 
■ — God  bless  you!"  A  salute  of  a  hundred 
guns  announced  the  marriage;  cheers  followed 
us,  and  chimes  and  bands  and  bugles  played 
as  we  left  for  our  wedding  reception  in  Rich- 
mond. 

The  food  supply  of  the  South  was  reduced 
to  narrow  limits  then.  Salt  was  reclaimed 
from  the  earth  under  smoke-houses.  Guests 
at  distinguished  functions  were  regaled  with 
ice-cream  made  of  frozen  buttermilk  sweet- 
ened with  sorghum.  But  mends  of  the  gen- 
eral had  almost  worked  miracles  to  prepare 
a  wedding  supper.  It  was  sora  season,  and 
those  little  birds  had  been  killed  at  night  with 
paddles — the  South  being  not  much  richer  in 
ammunition  than  in  edibles — and  contributed 
so  lavishly  to  our  banquet  that  it  was  always 
ii 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

afterward  known  as  "the  wedding  sora  sup- 
per." Our  wedding  present  from  Mrs.  Lee 
was  a  fruit-cake,  and  Bishop  Dudley's  mother 
sent  a  black  cake  she  had  been  saving  for  her 
golden  wedding.  Little  bags  of  salt  and 
sugar  were  sent  as  presents.  The  army  was 
in  camp  near  by,  and  all  the  men  at  the  re- 
ception, except  President  Davis,  his  cabinet, 
and  a  few  clergymen,  came  in  full  uniform, 
officers  and  privates  as  well.  We  returned 
without  delay  to  Petersburg,  that  being  my 
Soldier's  headquarters. 

In  early  May,  General  Butler,  with  thirty 
thousand  men,  came  down  upon  Petersburg, 
defended  by  only  six  hundred.  They  held 
the  place  till  half-starved  and  ragged  rein- 
forcements were  hurried  in  from  every  direc- 
tion. We  women  carried  the  despatches,  and 
cooked  the  food  and  took  it  to  the  men  at 
the  guns.  The  roar  of  the  cannon  and  the 
shriek  of  shot  and  shell  filled  our  ears  day  and 
night.  At  train-time  we  would  go  to  the  sta- 
tion and  send  up  cheer  after  cheer  to  welcome 
the  train  from  its  short  trip  out  into  the  coun- 
try, hoping  to  blind  the  Yankees  to  the  fact 

12 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

that  it  brought  in  only  the  half-starved  railroad 
men.  During  the  entire  week,  until  he  had 
Butler  safely  "bottled  up  at  Petersburg,"  my 
Soldier  did  not  sleep,  and  the  only  times  I  saw 
him  were  when  I  carried  his  bread  and  soup 
and  coffee  out  to  him.  It  was  just  as  it  had 
been  when  he  started  for  Cemetery  Hill  at 
Gettysburg.  He  would  never  stop  till  he  had 
accomplished  his  work.  After  Pickett's  Di- 
vision had  retaken  Bermuda  Hundred  the  fol- 
lowing summer,  General  Anderson,  command- 
ing Longstreet's  Corps,  wrote  to  General  Lee : 
"We  tried  very  hard  to  stop  Pickett  and  his 
men  from  capturing  the  breastworks  of  the 
enemy,  but  we  could  not  do  it." 

The  devotion  of  General  Pickett's  men  to 
him  has  often  been  recounted  as  something 
phenomenal.  It  was  equaled  only  by  his  de- 
votion to  them.  Very  near  the  end  of  the  war, 
when  the  army  had  subsisted  on  nothing  but 
corn  for  many  days,  as  my  Soldier  was  riding 
toward  Sailor's  Creek,  a  woman  ran  out  of 
a  house  and  handed  him  something  to  eat. 
He  carried  it  in  his  hand  as  he  rode  on.  Pres- 
ently he  came  upon  a  soldier  lying  behind  a 
13 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

log,  and  spoke  to  him.  The  man  looked  up, 
revealing  a  boyish  face,  scarcely  more  than  a 
child's — thin  and  pale. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  my  Soldier. 

"I'm  starving,  General,"  the  boy  replied. 
"I  couldn't  help  it.  I  couldn't  keep  up,  so  I 
just  lay  down  here  to  die." 

"Take  this,"  handing  the  boy  his  luncheon ; 
"and  when  you  have  eaten  and  rested,  go  on 
back  home.  It  would  only  waste  another  life 
for  you  to  go  on." 

The  boy  took  the  food  eagerly,  but  replied: 
"No,    Marse   George.     If   I   get  strength 

enough  to  go  at  all,  I'll  follow  you  to  the  last." 
He  did,  for  he  was  killed  a  few  days  later 

at  Sailor's  Creek. 

I  was  in  Richmond  when  my  Soldier  fought 
the  awful  battle  of  Five  Forks,  Richmond 
surrendered,  and  the  surging  sea  of  fire  swept 
the  city.  News  of  the  fate  of  Five  Forks  had 
reached  us,  and  the  city  was  full  of  rumors 
that  General  Pickett  was  killed.     I  did  not 

H 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 
believe  them.     I  knew  he  would  come  back, 


he  had  told  me  so.  But  they  were  very  anx- 
ious hours.  The  day  after  the  fire,  there  was 
a  sharp  rap  at  the  door.  The  servants  had 
all  run  away.  The  city  was  full  of  northern 
troops,  and  my  environment  had  not  taught 
me  to  love  them.  The  fate  of  other  cities  had 
awakened  my  fears  for  Richmond.  With  my 
baby  on  my  arm,  I  answered  the  knock,  opened 
the  door  and  looked  up  at  a  tall,  gaunt,  sad- 
faced  man  in  ill-fitting  clothes,  who,  with  the 
accent  of  the  North,  asked: 

"Is  this  George  Pickett's  place?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  I  answered,  "but  he  is  not  here." 

"I  know  that,  ma'am,"  he  replied,  "but  I 
just  wanted  to  see  the  place.  I  am  Abraham 
Lincoln." 

"The  President!"  I  gasped. 

The  stranger  shook  his  head  and  said: 

"No,  ma'am ;  no,  ma'am ;  just  Abraham  Lin- 
coln; George's  old  friend." 
15 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

"I  am  George  Pickett's  wife  and  this  is  his 
baby,"  was  all  I  could  say.  I  had  never  seen 
Mr.  Lincoln  but  remembered  the  intense  love 
and  reverence  with  which  my  Soldier  always 
spoke  of  him. 

My  baby  pushed  away  from  me  and  reached 
out  his  hands  to  Mr.  Lincoln,  who  took  him 
in  his  arms.  As  he  did  so  an  expression 
of  rapt,  almost  divine,  tenderness  and  love 
lighted  up  the  sad  face.  It  was  a  look  that 
I  have  never  seen  on  any  other  face.  My 
baby  opened  his  mouth  wide  and  insisted  upon 
giving  his  father's  friend  a  dewy  infantile  kiss. 
As  Mr.  Lincoln  gave  the  little  one  back  to  me, 
shaking  his  finger  at  him  playfully,  he  said: 

"Tell  your  father,  the  rascal,  that  I  forgive 
him  for  the  sake  of  that  kiss  and  those  bright 

eyes." 

He  turned  and  went  down  the  steps,  talk- 
ing to  himself,  and  passed  out  of  my  sight  for- 
ever, but  in  my  memory  those  intensely  hu- 
man eyes,  that  strong,  sad  face,  have  a  per- 
petual abiding  place — that  face  which  puz- 

16 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

zled  all  artists  but  revealed  itself  to  the  in- 
tuitions of  a  little  child,  causing  it  to  hold  out 
its  hands  to  be  taken  and  its  lips  to  be  kissed. 

It  was  through  Mr.  Lincoln  that  my  Sol- 
dier, as  a  lad  of  seventeen,  received  his  ap- 
pointment to  West  Point.  Mr.  Lincoln  was 
at  that  time  associated  in  law  practice  with 
George  Pickett's  uncle,  Mr.  Andrew  John- 
ston, a  distinguished  lawyer  and  scholar,  who 
was  very  anxious  that  his  nephew  should  fol- 
low in  his  footsteps  and  study  for  the  law — 
an  ambition  which,  it  is  needless  to  say,  my 
Soldier  did  not  share.  He  confided  his  per- 
plexities to  Mr.  Lincoln,  who  was  very  fond 
of  the  boy;  and  the  great  statesman  went  at 
once  to  work  to  secure  his  appointment. 

After  Richmond's  fall  I  anxiously  awaited 
my  Soldier's  return,  and  at  last  one  morning 
I  caught  the  familiar  clatter  of  the  hoofs  of 
his  little  thoroughbred  chestnut  which  he  al- 
ways rode  when  he  came  home,  and  the  sound 
of  his  voice  saying:  "Whoa,  Lucy,  whoa,  lit- 
tle girl." 


17 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

He  gave  his  staff  a  farewell  breakfast  at  our 
home.  They  did  not  once  refer  to  the  past, 
but  each  wore  a  blue  strip  tied  like  a  sash 
around  his  waist.  It  was  the  old  headquar- 
ter's  flag,  which  they  had  saved  from  the  sur- 
render and  torn  into  strips,  that  each  might 
keep  one  in  sad  memory.  After  breakfast  he 
went  to  the  door,  and  from  a  white  rose-bush 
which  his  mother  had  planted  cut  a  bud  for 
each.  He  put  one  in  my  hair  and  pinned 
one  to  the  coat  of  each  of  his  officers.  Then 
for  the  first  time  the  tears  came,  and  the  men 
who  had  been  closer  than  brothers  for  four 
fearful  years,  clasped  hands  in  silence  and 
parted. 

Ever  since  the  Mexican  War  General  Grant 
had  been  a  dear  friend  of  my  Soldier.  At 
the  time  our  first  baby  was  born  the  two 
armies  were  encamped  facing  each  other  and 
they  often  swapped  coffee  and  tobacco  under 
flags  of  truce.  On  the  occasion  of  my  son's 
birth  bonfires  were  lighted  in  celebration  all 
along  Pickett's  line.  Grant  saw  them  and 
sent  scouts  to  learn  the  cause.  When  they  re- 
ported, he  said  to  General  Ingalls: 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

"Haven't  we  some  kindling  on  this  side  of 
the  line?  Why  don't  we  strike  a  light  for  the 
young  Pickett?" 

In  a  little  while  bonfires  were  flaming  from 
the  Federal  line.  A  few  days  later  there  was 
taken  through  the  lines  a  baby's  silver  service, 
engraved:  "To  George  E.  Pickett,  Jr.,  from 
his  father's  friends,  U.  S.  Grant,  Rufus  In- 
galls,  George  Suckley." 

It  was  through  their  courtesy,  at  the  close 
of  the  war,  that  we  were  taken  from  Rich- 
mond down  the  James  to  my  father's  old 
home  at  Chuckatuck.  But  we  were  not  al- 
lowed to  remain  long  at  peace.  General  In- 
galls  warned  my  Soldier  that  General  Butler 
was  making  speeches  against  him  in  Congress, 
and  urged  that  he  would  be  safer  on  foreign 
ground.  Though  he  did  not  believe  it,  he 
reluctantly  consented  to  go.  He  mounted 
Lucy  and  rode  to  the  station.  It  was  a  pa- 
thetic incident  that,  just  as  the  train  moved 
out,  the  chestnut  thoroughbred  lay  down  and 
died. 


19 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

We  had  been  in  Canada  almost  a  year  when 
General  Grant,  learning  of  our  exile,  wrote 
to  us  to  return,  saying  that  his  cartel  with 
General  Lee  should  be  kept,  if  it  required  an- 
other war  to  make  it  good.  We  went  back 
to  our  dear  old  place,  Turkey  Island,  on  the 
James  River,  and  built  a  little  cottage  in  the 
place  of  the  magnificent  mansion  which  had 
been  sacked  and  burned  by  order  of  General 
Butler.  I  once  asked  my  Soldier  why  it  was 
called  Turkey  Island.  He  replied  that  there 
were  two  good  reasons;  one  was  that  it  was 
not  an  island,  the  other  that  there  were  never 
any  turkeys  there.  Everything,  even  the 
monument  in  the  family  cemetery,  had  been 
destroyed,  but  it  was  home.  We  loved  it. 
My  Soldier  was  always  passionately  fond  of 
flowers,  and  our  garden  was  an  unfailing  de- 
light to  us  both. 

He  tried  to  turn  his  sword  into  a  plow- 
share, but  he  was  not  expert  with  plowshares; 
and,  worse,  he  constantly  received  applica- 
tions for  employment  from  old  comrades  no 
more  skilled  than  he.  All  were  made  wel- 
come, though  they  might  not  be  able  to  dis- 

20 


THE    HEART   OF   A    SOLDIER 

tinguish  a  rake  from  a  rail  fence  or  tell 
whether  potatoes  grew  on  trees  or  on  trellised 
vines.  They  would  rise  at  any  hour  that 
pleased  them,  linger  over  breakfast,  and  then 
go  out  to  the  fields.  If  the  sun  were  too  hot 
or  the  wind  too  cold,  they  would  come  back, 
to  sit  on  the  veranda  or  around  the  fire  till 
dinner  was  ready.  There  were  generals,  col- 
onels, majors,  captains,  lieutenants,  privates — 
all  of  one  rank  now;  and  he  who  desired  a 
graphic  history  of  the  four  years'  war  needed 
only  to  listen  to  the  conversation  of  the  agri- 
cultural army  at  Turkey  Island.  But  the  in- 
evitable came;  resources  were  in  time  ex- 
hausted, and  proprietor  and  assistants  were 
forced  to  seek  other  fields. 

The  Khedive  of  Egypt  offered  my  Soldier 
the  position  of  general  in  his  army,  but  he  de- 
clined. When  General  Grant  became  Presi- 
dent, he  entertained  us  as  his  guests  at  the 
White  House,  and  one  of  my  keenest  memo- 
ries is  of  President  Grant  and  my  Soldier  as 
they  stood  facing  each  other  in  the  White 
House  office  the  last  day  of  our  visit.  Grant's 
hand  was  on  the  shoulder  of  my  Soldier,  and 

21 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

they  were  looking  earnestly  into  each  other's 
eyes.  Grant,  ever  faithful  to  his  friends,  had 
been  urging  my  Soldier  to  accept  the  marshal- 
ship  of  the  State  of  Virginia.  Pickett,  sorely 
as  he  needed  the  appointment,  knew  the  de- 
mands upon  Grant,  and  that  his  acceptance 
would  create  criticism  and  enemies  for  the 
President.     He  shook  his  head,  saying: 

"You  can't  afford  to  do  this  for  me,  Sam, 
and  I  can't  afford  to  take  it." 

"I  can  afford  to  do  anything  I  please,"  said 
Grant.  My  Soldier  still  shook  his  head,  but 
the  deep  emotion  of  his  heart  shone  in  his  tear- 
dimmed  eyes,  and  in  Grant's,  as  they  silently 
grasped  each  other's  hands  and  then  walked 
away  in  opposite  directions  and  looked  out  of 
separate  windows,  while  I  stole  away. 

My  Soldier  was  urged  to  accept  the  posi- 
tion with  Generals  Beauregard  and  Early 
in  connection  with  the  Louisiana  Lottery. 
There  was  a  large  salary  attached  to  it,  but 
he  said  there  was  not  money  enough  in  the 
world  to  induce  him  to  lend  his  name  to  it. 

22 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

When  he  was  offered  the  governorship  of 
Virginia,  he  said  that  he  never  again  wanted 
to  hold  any  office,  and  would  be  glad  to  see 
Kemper,  his  old  brigadier,  made  governor. 
Kemper  was  the  only  one  of  Pickett's  briga- 
diers who  came  out  of  the  battle  of  Gettys- 
burg, and  he  was  wounded  and  maimed  for 
life.  He  was  elected  governor,  and  as  he  was 
a  bachelor,  my  Soldier  and  I  often  assisted 
him  at  his  receptions. 

For  himself,  my  Soldier  finally  accepted 
the  general  agency  for  the  South  of  the  Wash- 
ington Life  Insurance  Company,  and  held  the 
office  till  his  death.  The  headquarters  were 
at  Richmond.  I  always  went  with  him  on 
his  trips,  and  we  spent  our  summers  in  the 
Virginia  mountains. 

External  conditions  as  well  as  natural  in- 
stincts made  my  Soldier's  life  one  of  deep  and 
tragic  earnestness.  He  was  always  grave  and 
dignified,  but  he  was  fond  of  jokes,  especially 
if  they  were  on  me.  Once,  when  he  was  leav- 
ing home  for  an  absence  of  some  length,  he 
asked  how  much  money  I  would  need.  I 
23 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

made  a  laborious  calculation,  and  named  a 
sum  which  he  promptly  doubled.  He  had 
not  been  gone  long  when  I  remembered  an 
obligation,  and  telegraphed  him  that  I  had 
underestimated  the  amount.  By  the  next 
mail  came  a  check  carefully  made  payable  to 
"Mrs.  Oliver  Twist."  I  had  to  indorse  it  in 
that  way,  and  he  always  carried  the  cheque  in 
his  pocket  afterward  for  my  benefit.  I  have 
it  now. 

At  the  wedding  breakfast  given  for  Gen- 
eral Magruder's  niece  at  the  mansion  of  the 
governor-general  of  Canada,  the  governor 
asked  my  Soldier  to  what  he  attributed  the 
failure  of  the  Confederates  at  Gettysburg. 
With  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes,  he  replied,  "Well, 
I  think  the  Yankees  had  a  little  something  to 
do  with  it." 

In  the  summer  of  1875,  when  we  were  pre- 
pared to  start  for  White  Sulphur  Springs,  my 
Soldier  was  suddenly  called  to  Norfolk. 
Very  much  against  his  advice,  I  insisted  on 
accompanying  him.  It  was  fortunate,  for 
after  two  days  of  anxious  work  he  fell  ill,  and 

24- 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

died  there.  The  evening  he  was  dying,  the 
doctor  wanted  to  give  him  an  anodyne,  but  he 
said: 

"Doctor,  you  say  that  I  must  die.  I  want 
to  go  in  my  right  mind.  I  would  rather  suf- 
fer pain  and  know.  Please  leave  me  now.  I 
do  not  want  anybody  but  my  wife." 

The  longest  procession  of  mourners  ever 
known  in  Virginia  followed  him  to  his  grave 
on  Gettysburg  Hill,  in  beautiful  Hollywood. 

General  Longstreet  has  written  of  my  Sol- 
dier : 

"I  first  met  him  as  a  cadet  at  West  Point,  in  the  heyday 
of  his  bright  young  manhood,  in  1842.  Upon  graduating, 
he  was  assigned  to  the  regiment  to  which  I  had  been  pro- 
moted, the  Eighth  United  States  Infantry,  and  Lieutenant 
Pickett  served  gallantly  with  us  continuously  until,  for 
meritorious  service,  he  was  promoted  captain  in  1856.  He 
served  with  distinguished  valor  in  all  the  battles  of  General 
Scott  in  Mexico,  including  the  siege  of  Vera  Cruz,  and 
was  always  conspicuous  for  gallantry.  He  was  the  first 
to  scale  the  parapets  of  Chapultepec  on  the  13th  of  Sep- 
tember, 1847,  and  was  the  brave  American  who  unfurled 
our  flag  over  the  castle  as  the  enemy's  troops  retreated, 
25 


THE    HEART   OF    A    SOLDIER 

firing  at  the  splendid  Pickett  as  he  floated  our  victorious 
colors. 

"In  memory  I  can  see  him,  of  medium  height,  of  grace- 
ful build,  dark,  glossy  hair,  worn  almost  to  his  shoulders 
in  curly  waves,  of  wondrous  pulchritude  and  magnetic 
presence,  as  he  gallantly  rode  from  me  on  that  memorable 
third  day  of  July,  1863,  saying,  in  obedience  to  the  impera- 
tive order  to  which  I  could  only  bow  assent,  'I  will  lead 
my  division  forward,  General  Longstreet.'  He  was  de- 
voted to  his  martial  profession     .     .     . 

"His  greatest  battle  was  really  at  Five  Forks,  April  I, 
1865,  where  his  plans  and  operations  were  masterful  and 
skillful.  If  they  had  been  executed  as  he  designed  them 
there  might  have  been  no  Appomattox,  and  despite  the 
disparity  of  overwhelming  numbers,  a  brilliant  victory 
would  have  been  his  if  reinforcements  which  he  had  every 
reason  to  expect  had  opportunely  reached  him;  but  they 
were  not  ordered  in  season  and  did  not  join  the  hard- 
pressed  Pickett  until  night,  when  his  position  had  long 
since  been  attacked  by  vastly  superior  numbers  with  repeat- 
ing rifles. 

"He  was  of  an  open,  frank,  and  genial  temperament,  but 
he  felt  very  keenly  the  distressing  calamities  entailed  upon 
the  beloved  sunny  South  by  the  results  of  the  war;  yet, 
with  the  characteristic  fortitude  of  a  soldier,  he  bowed  with 
resignation  to  the  inevitable,  gracefully  accepted  the  situa- 
tion, recognized  the  duty  of  the  unfortunate  to  accept  the 

26 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

results  in  no  querulous  spirit,  and  felt  his  obligation  to 
share  its  effects. 

"No  word  of  blame,  or  censure  even,  of  his  superior 
officers  ever  escaped  Pickett's  lips,  but  he  nevertheless  felt 
profoundly  the  sacrifice  of  his  gallant  soldiers  whom  he  so 
loved.  At  Five  Forks  he  had  a  desperate  but  a  fighting 
chance,  and  if  any  soldier  could  have  snatched  victory 
from  defeat,  it  was  the  intrepid  Pickett,  and  it  was  cruel 
to  leave  that  brilliant  and  heroic  leader  and  his  Spartan 
band  to  the  same  hard  straits  they  so  nobly  met  at  Gettys- 
burg. At  Five  Forks  Pickett  lost  more  men  in  thirty 
minutes  than  we  lost,  all  told,  in  the  recent  Spanish- 
American  war  from  bullets,  wounds,  sickness,  or  any  other 
casualty,  showing  the  unsurpassed  bravery  with  which 
Pickett  fought,  and  the  tremendous  odds  and  insuperable 
disadvantages  under  and  against  which  this  incomparable 
soldier  so  bravely  contended ;  but  with  George  E.  Pickett, 
whether  fighting  under  the  stars  and  stripes  at  Chapultepec, 
or  under  the  stars  and  bars  at  Gettysburg,  duty  was  his 
polar  star,  and  with  him  duty  wss  above  consequences,  and 
at  a  crisis,  he  would  throw  them  overboard." 

General  McClellan  has  said: 

"Perhaps  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  was  the  best  infantry 
soldier  developed  on  either  side  during  the  Civil  War. 
His  friends  and  admirers  are  by  no  means  confined  to  the 
Southern  people  or  soldiers  to  whom  he  gave  his  heart  and 
best  affections  and  of  whom  he  was  so  noble  a  type,  but 
throughout  the  North  and  on  the  Pacific  coast,  where  he 
long  served,  his  friends  and  lovers  are  legion. 
27 


THE    HEART   OF   A    SOLDIER 

"He  was  of  the  purest  type  of  the  perfect  soldier,  pos- 
sessing manly  beauty  in  the  highest  degree;  a  mind  large 
and  capable  of  taking  in  the  bearings  of  events  under  ail 
circumstances;  of  that  firm  and  dauntless  texture  of  soul 
that  no  danger  or  shock  of  conflict  could  appall  or  confuse ; 
full  of  that  rare  magnetism  which  could  infuse  itself  into 
masses  of  men  and  cause  any  mass  under  his  control  to  act 
as  one;  his  perception  clear;  his  courage  of  that  rare  proof 
which  rose  to  the  occasion;  his  genius  for  war  so  marked 
that  his  companions  all  knew  that  his  mind  worked  clearer 
under  fire  and  in  the  'deadly  and  imminent  breach,'  than 
even  at  mess-table  or  in  the  merry  bivouac,  where  his  genial 
and  kindly  comradeship  and  his  perfect  breeding  as  a  gen- 
tleman made  him  beloved  of  his  friends. 

"He  will  live  in  history  as  nearer  to  Light  Horse  Harry, 
of  the  Revolution,  than  any  other  of  the  many  heroes  pro- 
duced by  Old  Virginia — his  whole  history,  when  told,  as 
it  will  be  by  some  of  the  survivors  of  Pickett's  men,  will 
reveal  a  modern  type  of  the  Chevalier  Bayard,  sans  peur  et 
sans  reproche. 

"Could  he  have  had  his  wish,  he  had  died  amid  the  roar 
of  battle.  No  man  of  our  age  has  better  illustrated  the 
aptitude  for  war  of  his  class  of  our  country,  and  with  these 
talents  for  war  was  united  the  truest  and  sweetest  nature. 
No  man  of  his  time  was  more  beloved  of  women,  of  men 
and  of  soldiers.  He  was  to  the  latter  a  rigid  disciplinarian 
and  at  the  same  time  the  soldier's  friend.     Virginia  will 

28 


THE    HEART   OF    A    SOLDIER 

rank  him  in  her  roll  of  fame  with  Lee,  with  Johnston, 
with  Jackson  they  love  as  Stonewall ;  and  mourners  for  the 
noble  and  gallant  gentleman,  the  able  and  accomplished 
soldier,  are  legion." 

These  were  the  tributes  of  friend  and  ene- 
my— if  any  man,  though  he  fought  him  on 
the  field  of  battle,  could  be  called  his  enemy. 
Rivers  of  blood  did  not  quench  the  flames  of 
the  campfires  of  Mexico  and  the  West.  My 
Soldier's  comrades  under  the  old  flag  were 
still  his  comrades  through  the  crucial  test  of 
that  most  deadly  warfare,  a  conflict  between 
the  opposing  sections  of  the  same  country. 

To  me  the  legacy  of  love  that  he  left  in  his 
letters  and  in  the  memories  of  his  daily  life 
is  greater  than  any  riches  earth  could  give. 
The  nobility  of  soul  with  which  he  met  the 
problems  that  come  to  men  in  the  arena  of 
the  world  is  a  treasured  possession  in  my 
heart  even  greater  than  his  magnificent  hero- 
ism on  the  field  of  battle.  The  radiance  of 
the  stars  in  the  blue  sky  of  peace  eclipse  the 
crimson  glow  of  the  fiery  comet  of  war.  The 
heart  of  "My  Soldier"  is  mine  to-day  as  it  was 
29 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

in  that  long-gone  yesterday  when  I  awaited 
the  messages  that  link  the  battlefield  with  to- 
morrow's Eternal  Harmony. 

La  Salle  Corbell  Pickett. 


30 


PART      ONE 


'  <&> 


In  the  early  days 
of  the  Long  Struggle 


31 


A  T  the  time  when  these  letters  begin, 
■*1  the  General  (then  Captain  Pickett, 
U.  S.  A.)  was  stationed  at  Fort  Belling- 
ham  in  the  northwest.  Before  leaving 
Virginia,  he  had  become  engaged  to 
"Little  Miss  Sally"  Corbell,  who  during 
his  absence  was  fitting  herself  at  school 
to  be  a  soldier's  wife.  The  summons  to 
arms  in  the  cause  of  the  seceding  states 
was  late  in  reaching  the  Captain  at  his 
jar-away  post,  and  he,  being  in  the  dark 
as  to  the  course  of  events,  was  even  more 
tardy  to  respond;  but  when  the  news  came 
telling  of  the  withdrawal  of  his  native 
state  from  the  Union  he  resigned  his  com- 
mission immediately  and  cast  his  lot  with 
that  of  the  Confederacy. 

The  letters  in  this  part  give  many  vivid 
glimpses  of  the  armies  in  action,  as  they 
do  of  the  lighter  side  of  a  soldier's  life, 
during  the  first  year  and  a  half  of  the 
War.  There  are  lapses  of  weeks — even 
months — between  them,  due  to  the  fact 
that  some  are  missing;  others,  whose 
pages  time  has  stained,  are  undecipher- 
able, and  in  still  other  instances  the  for- 
tunes of  war  kept  the  General  so  near  his 
sweetheart  that  letters  were  not  needed 
to  carry  to  her  the  tale  of  his  love. 


THE  HEART  OF  A  SOLDIER 


In  Which  the  General  Tells  Why  He  Sided 
With  the  South 

SEVERAL  weeks  ago  I  wrote  quite  a  long 
letter  from  far-away  San  Francisco  to 
a  very  dear  little  girl,  and  told  her  that  a  cer- 
tain soldier  who  wears  one  of  her  long,  silken 
ringlets  next  his  heart  was  homeward  bound 
and  that  he  hoped  a  line  of  welcome  would 
meet  him  on  his  arrival  in  his  native  state. 
He  told  her  of  the  difficulties  he  had  experi- 
enced in  being  relieved  from  his  post,  of  how 
sorry  he  was  to  sheathe  the  sword  which  had 
helped  to  bring  victory  to  the  country  for 
which  he  had  fought,  and  how  sorry  he  was 
to  say  good-by  to  his  little  command  and  to 
part  from  his  faithful  and  closest  companion, 
his  dog,  and  his  many  dear  friends;  but  sor- 
rier still  for  the  existing  circumstances  which 

33 


THE    HEART   OF    A    SOLDIER 

made  this  severance  necessary.  He  told  her 
many  things  for  which,  with  him,  she  will  be 
sorry,  and  some  of  which  he  hopes  will  make 
her  glad.  He  is  troubled  by  finding  no  an- 
swer to  this  long  letter  which,  having  at  that 
time  no  notion  of  the  real  conditions  here,  he 
is  afraid  was  written  too  freely  by  far. 

No,  my  child,  I  had  no  conception  of  the 
intensity  of  feeling,  the  bitterness  and  hatred 
toward  those  who  were  so  lately  our  friends 
and  are  now  our  enemies.  I,  of  course,  have 
always  strenuously  opposed  disunion,  not  as 
doubting  the  right  of  secession,  which  was 
taught  in  our  text-book  at  West  Point,  but  as 
gravely  questioning  its  expediency.  I  be- 
lieved that  the  revolutionary  spirit  which  in- 
fected both  North  and  South  was  but  a  passing 
phase  of  fanaticism  which  would  perish  under 
the  rebuke  of  all  good  citizens,  who  would 
surely  unite  in  upholding  the  Constitution; 
but  when  that  great  assembly,  composed  of 
ministers,  lawyers,  judges,  chancellors,  states- 
men, mostly  white  haired  men  of  thought,  met 
in  South  Carolina  and  when  their  districts 
were  called  crept  noiselessly  to  the  table  in 

34 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

the  center  of  the  room  and  affixed  their  signa- 
tures to  the  parchment  on  which  the  ordi- 
nance of  secession  was  inscribed,  and  when  in 
deathly  silence,  spite  of  the  gathered  multi- 
tude, General  Jamison  arose  and  without  pre- 
amble read:  "The  ordinance  of  secession  has 
been  signed  and  ratified;  I  proclaim  the  State 
of  South  Carolina  an  independent  sover- 
eignty," and  lastly,  when  my  old  boyhood's 
friend  called  for  an  invasion,  it  was  evident 
that  both  the  advocates  and  opponents  of  se- 
cession had  read  the  portents  aright. 

You  know,  my  little  lady,  some  of  those 
cross-stitched  mottoes  on  the  cardboard  sam- 
plers which  used  to  hang  on  my  nursery  wall, 
such  as,  "He  who  provides  not  for  his  own 
household  is  worse  than  an  infidel"  and 
"Charity  begins  at  home,"  made  a  lasting  im- 
pression upon  me;  and  while  I  love  my  neigh- 
bor, i.e.,  my  country,  I  love  my  household, 
i.  e.,  my  state,  more,  and  I  could  not  be  an  in- 
fidel and  lift  my  sword  against  my  own  kith 
and  kin,  even  though  I  do  believe,  my  most 
wise  little  counselor  and  confidante,  that 
the  measure  of  American  greatness  can  be 
35 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

achieved  only  under  one  flag,  and  I  fear,  alas, 
there  can  never  again  reign  for  either  of  us  the 
true  spirit  of  national  unity,  whether  divided 
under  two  flags  or  united  under  one. 

We  did  not  tarry  even  for  a  day  in  'Frisco, 
but  under  assumed  names  my  friend,  Sam 
Barron,  and  I  sailed  for  New  York,  where  we 
arrived  on  the  very  day  that  Sam's  father, 
Commodore  Barron,  was  brought  there  a  pris- 
oner, which  fact  was  proclaimed  aloud  by  the 
pilot  amid  cheers  of  the  passengers  and  upon 
our  landing  heralded  by  the  newsboys  with 
more  cheers.  Poor  Sam  had  a  hard  fight  to 
hide  his  feelings  and  to  avoid  arrest.  We 
separated  as  mere  ship  acquaintances,  and 
went  by  different  routes  to  meet  again,  as  ar- 
ranged, at  the  house  of  Doctor  Paxton,  a 
Southern  sympathizer  and  our  friend. 

On  the  next  day  we  left  for  Canada  by  the 
earliest  train.  Thence  we  made  our  perilous 
way  back  south  again,  barely  escaping  arrest 
several  times,  and  finally  arrived  in  dear  old 
Richmond,  September  13th,  just  four  days 
ago.    I  at  once  enlisted  in  the  army  and  the 

36 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

following  day  was  commissioned  Captain. 
But  so  bitter  is  the  feeling  here  that  my  being 
unavoidably  delayed  so  long  in  avowing  my 
allegiance  to  my  state  has  been  most  cruelly 
and  severely  criticized  by  friends — yes,  and 
even  relatives,  too. 

Now,  little  one,  if  you  had  the  very  faintest 
idea  how  happy  a  certain  captain  in  the  C.  S. 
A.  (My,  but  that  "C"  looks  queer!)  would  be 
to  look  into  your  beautiful,  soul-speaking  eyes 
and  hear  your  wonderfully  musical  voice,  I 
think  you  would  let  him  know  by  wire  where 
he  could  find  you.     I  shall  almost  listen  for 

the  electricity  which  says,   "I   am  at  . 

Come."  I  know  that  you  will  have  mercy  on 
your  devoted 

Soldier. 

Richmond,  September  17,  1861. 


37 


II 


Written   After  a  Light  Skirmish    With    the 
Enemy 

YOUR  welcome  note  gladdened  my  droop- 
ing spirits  last  evening.  How  can  I 
thank  you  for  the  token?1  I  shall  always 
cherish  it,  my  darling.  I  sent  a  short  note  to 
you  via  Petersburg  to  Wakefield.  I  sincerely 
trust  you  received  it,  as  in  it  I  advised  you  not 
to  come  down  into  this  part  of  the  country. 
The  Yankees  are  burning  everything  they  can 
reach,  and  God  only  knows  what  excesses  they 
may  commit  on  the  defenseless,  should  they 
have  the  power.  So  much  troubled  am  I 
about  you,  that  I  send  this  by  a  courier  of  my 
own,  that  he  may  deliver  it  to  you  in  person 
(how  I  wish  I  were  the  courier).  I'm  afraid 
you  will  only  expose  yourself  needlessly  to 

1 A  wreath   and    stars,   which  she   had    embroidered   for   his 
collar. 

38 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

harm.  I  don't  know  when  I  shall  see  you, 
but  I  should  be  nearly  as  far  from  you  as  at 
present.  At  any  rate,  I  should  be  worse  than 
miserable  did  I  know  you  were  so  near  these 
now  apparently  infuriated  beings. 

Alas,  my  darling,  as  the  Indian  says  when 
despondent,  "My  heart  is  on  the  ground." 
The  enemy  has  been  strongly  reenforced,  and 
the  town  is  one  network  of  batteries  and  en- 
trenchments. I  have  had  two  little  brushes 
with  them,  running  them  into  their  works  both 
times — the  first  one  yesterday  week.  I  was 
ordered  to  make  a  reconnaissance  in  force, 
which  was  done  by  a  part  of  Armistead's  Bri- 
gade, and  in  so  doing  ws  got  under  a  con- 
centrated fire  of  about  sixteen  guns  and  had 
as  jolly  a  little  time  of  it  for  about  fifteen 
minutes  as  I  ever  saw.  Parrot  and  round 
shot  were  about  as  thick  as  the  ticks  are,  and 
their  name  is  legion.  However,  the  object 
was  effected,  and  we  have  lost  altogether 
only  about  seventy-five  men  from  my 
division. 

Haven't  you  some  relatives  living  this  side 
of  the  Blackwater — a  Captain  Phillips  of  the 
3rd?  Write  me,  my  dearest.  Two  long, 
39 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

weary  weeks  since  I  drank  comfort  from  those 
bright  eyes — to  me  a  year  of  anxiety. 
Your  devoted  and  miserable 

Soldier. 

New  Somerton  Road,  April  21,  1862. 


40 


Ill 


Concerning  Legitimate  Warfare,  Secession 
and  the  Mishaps  of  an  Old  Major  of  Ar- 
tillery 

MY  heart  beat  with  joy  this  morning  when 
Captain  Peacock  returned  to  camp, 
bringing  me  your  beautiful  letter — beautiful 
because  it  was  the  echo  of  a  pure  spirit  and  a 
radiant  soul.  I  am  humbly  grateful,  my 
little  girl,  for  this  loyal  devotion  which  you 
give  me — your  Soldier.  Let  us  pray  to  our 
dear  Heavenly  Father  to  spare  us  to  each 
other  and  give  us  strength  to  bear  cheerfully 
this  enforced  separation.  I  know  that  it  can- 
not be  long,  and  that  sooner  or  later  our  flag 
will  float  over  the  seas  of  the  world,  for  our 
cause  is  right  and  just. 

Why,  my  Sally,  all  that  we  ask  is  a  separa- 
tion from  people  of  contending  interests,  who 
love  us  as  a  nation  as  little  as  we  love  them, 
the  dissolution  of  a  union  which  has  lost  its 
41 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

holiness,  to  be  let  alone  and  permitted  to  sit 
under  our  own  vine  and  fig  tree  and  eat  our 
figs  peeled  and  dried  or  fresh  or  pickled,  just 
as  we  choose.  The  enemy  is  our  enemy  be- 
cause he  neither  knows  nor  understands  us, 
and  yet  will  not  let  us  part  in  peace  and  be 
neighbors,  but  insists  on  fighting  us  to  make 
us  one  with  him,  forgetting  that  both  slavery 
and  secession  were  his  own  institutions.  The 
North  is  fighting  for  the  Union,  and  we — for 
home  and  fireside.  All  the  men  I  know  and 
love  in  the  world — comrades  and  friends,  both 
North  and  South — are  exposed  to  hardships 
and  dangers,  and  are  fighting  on  one  side  or 
the  other,  and  each  for  that  which  he  knows 
to  be  right. 

Speaking  of  fighting,  Captain  Peacock  this 
morning  brings  us  the  news  that  the  daring, 
fearless has  again  won — shall  I  say,  a  vic- 
tory? No,  not  victory.  Victory  is  such  a 
glorious,  triumphant  word.  I  cannot  use  it 
in  speaking  of  warfare  that  is  illegal  to  many 
of  us.  Marse  Robert's *  approval  and  com- 
mendation of  this  illegitimate  mode  is  a  source 
of  surprise,  for,  like  many  of  us,  the  dear  old 

1  General  Lee. 

42 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

"Tyee"  was  reared  and  schooled  in  honorable 
warfare. 

Well,  as  Trenholm  said,  only  those  who 
have  enlisted  for  this  whole  war,  with  mus- 
kets on  their  shoulders  and  knapsacks  on  their 
backs,  have  a  right  to  criticize;  but  I  reserve 
even  from  these  the  right,  and  acknowledge 
myself  wrong  in  criticizing.  An  old  army 
story,  though  hardly  illustrative  enough  to  be 
justifiable  in  telling,  occurs  to  me: 

An  old  major  of  artillery,  who  was  always 
deploring  the  fact  that  he  couldn't  use  his  own 
favorite  arm  against  the  Indians,  determined 
one  day  to  try  the  moral  effect  of  it  upon  a 
tribe  of  friendly  ones  nearby.  So  he  took  one 
of  the  small  howitzers  which  defended  the 
fort  and  securely  strapped  it  to  the  back  of  an 
army  mule,  with  the  muzzle  projecting  over 
the  mule's  tail,  and  then  proceeded  with  the 
captain,  sergeant  and  orderly  to  the  bluff  on 
the  bank  of  the  Missouri  where  the  Indians 
were  encamped.  The  gun  was  loaded  and 
primed,  the  fuse  inserted  and  the  mule  backed 
to  the  very  edge  of  the  blufT. 

The  mule  with  his  wonted  curiosity,  hear- 
ing the  fizzing,  turned  his  head  to  see  what 
43 


THE    HEART   OF    A    SOLDIER 

unusual  thing  was  happening  to  him.  The 
next  second  his  feet  were  bunched  up  together, 
making  forty  revolutions  a  minute,  the  gun 
threatening  with  instant  destruction  every- 
thing within  a  radius  of  five  miles.  The  cap- 
tain climbed  a  tree,  the  sergeant  and  orderly 
following  suit.  The  fat  major,  too  heavy  to 
climb,  rolled  over  on  the  ground,  alternately 
praying  to  God  and  cursing  the  mule.  When 
the  explosion  came,  the  recoil  of  the  gun  and 
the  wild  leap  of  the  terrified  mule  carried 
both  over  the  bluff  and  to  the  bottom  of 
the  river.  The  captain,  the  sergeant  and  the 
poor,  crestfallen,  discomfited  major,  with  the 
mule  and  the  gun  to  account  for,  returned  to 
the  fort,  soon  to  be  waited  on  by  the  Indian 
chiefs,  who  had  held  a  hurried  council.  The 
high  chief,  bowing  his  head  up  and  down, 
said: 

"Injun  go  home.  Injun  ver'  brave.  Injun 
love  white  man.  Injun  help  white  man.  In- 
jun heap  use  gun,  use  knife,  heap  use  bow- 
arrow;  but  when  white  man  shoot  off  whole 
jackass,  Injun  no  think  right — no  can  under- 
stand. Injun  no  help  white  man  fight  that 
way.     Injun  go  home." 

44 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

So,  my  Sally,  if  you  will  forgive  your 
Soldier  for  telling  this  old-time  story  and  let 
him  say  that  he  does  not  approve  of  fighting 

in  the  way  in  which fights,  he  will  bid 

you  good-by  and  eat  his  breakfast,  which  the 
cook  says  is  getting  cold.  Will  you  come,  my 
darling,  and  have  some  coffee  with  your 
Soldier?  It  is  some  we  captured,  and  is  real 
coffee. 

Come!  The  tin  cup  is  clean  and  shining; 
but  the  corn-bread  is  greasy  and  smoked. 
And  the  bacon — that  is  greasy,  too,  but  it  is 
good  and  tastes  all  right,  if  it  will  only  hold 
out  till  our  Stars  and  Bars  wave  over  the  land 
of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave,  and 
we  have  our  own  home.  Nevermore  we'll 
hear  of  wars,  but  only  love  and  life  with  its 
eternal  joys. 

Your  Own  Soldier. 

Headquarters,  May  — ,  1 862. 


45 


IV 

In  Which  Are  Given  Certain  Important  De- 
tails of  the  Battle  of  Seven  Pines 

A  VIOLENT  storm  was  raging,  flooding 
the  level  ground,  as  I  wrote  you  last, 
followed  the  next  day  by  one  of  fire  and  blood 
— the  Battle  of  Seven  Pines. 

I  pray  that  you  accepted  the  invitation  of 
your  mountain  chum,  and  that  your  beautiful 
eyes  and  tender  heart  have  been  spared  the 
horrors  of  war  which  this  battle  must  have 
poured  into  sad  Richmond.  Three  hundred 
and  fifty  of  your  Soldier's  brigade,  1,700 
strong,  were  killed  or  wounded,  and  all  fought 
as  Virginians  should,  fighting  as  they  did  for 
the  right,  for  love,  honor,  home  and  state — 
principles  which  they  had  been  taught  from 
the  mothers'  knees,  the  schoolroom  and  the 
pulpit. 

Under  orders  from  Old  Peter,1  we  marched 

1  General  Longstreet. 

46 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

at  daylight  and  reported  to  D.  H.  Hill,  near 
Seven  Pines.  Hill  directed  me  to  ride  over 
and  communicate  with  Hood.  I  started  at 
once  with  Charlie  and  Archer,  of  my  staff,  to 
obey  this  order,  but  had  gone  only  a  short  dis- 
tance when  we  met  a  part  of  the  Louisiana 
Zouaves  in  panic.  I  managed  to  seize  and  de- 
tain one  fellow,  mounted  on  a  mule  that 
seemed  to  have  imbibed  his  rider's  fear  and 
haste.  The  man  dropped  his  plunder  and 
seizing  his  carbine  threatened  to  kill  me  un- 
less I  released  him  at  once,  saying  that  the 
Yankees  were  upon  his  heels.  We  galloped 
back  to  Hill's  headquarters — Archer  bringing 
up  the  rear  with  the  Zouave,  who  explained 
that  the  enemy  were  advancing  in  force  and 
were  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  us.  Hill 
ordered  me  to  attack  at  once,  which  I  did, 
driving  them  through  an  abatis  over  a  cross- 
road leading  to  the  railroad. 

As  we  were  nearing  the  second  abatis,  I,  on 
foot  at  the  time,  noticed  that  Armistead's  Bri- 
gade had  broken,  and  sent  a  courier  back  post- 
haste to  Hill  for  troops.  A  second  and  third 
message  were  sent  and  then  a  fourth,  telling 
him  that  if  he  would  send  me  more  troops  and 
47 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

ammunition  we  could  drive  the  enemy  across 
the  Chickahominy.  But  alas,  Hill,  as  brave, 
as  great,  as  heroic  a  soldier  as  he  is,  has,  since 
the  fall  of  Johnston,  been  so  bothered  and  an- 
noyed with  countermanding  orders  that  he 
was,  if  I  may  say  so,  confused  and  failed  to 
respond.  After  this  delay  nothing  was  left  for 
us  but  to  withdraw.  Hill  sent  two  regiments 
of  Colston's  Brigade  and  ordered  Mahone's 
Brigade  on  my  right,  and  at  one  o'clock  at 
night,  under  his  orders,  we  withdrew  in  per- 
fect order  and  the  enemy  retreated  to  their 
bosky  cover. 

Thus,  my  darling,  was  ended  the  Battle  of 
Seven  Pines.  No  shot  was  fired  afterward. 
How  I  wish  I  could  say  it  ended  all  battles 
and  that  the  last  shot  that  will  ever  be  heard 
was  fired  on  June  first,  1862.  What  a  change 
love  does  make!  How  tender  all  things  be- 
come to  a  heart  touched  by  love — how  beauti- 
ful the  beautiful  is  and  how  abhorrent  is  evil! 
See,  my  darling,  see  what  power  you  have — 
guard  it  well. 

I  have  heard  that  my  dear  old  friend,  Mc- 
Clellan,  is  lying  ill  about  ten  miles  from  here. 
May  some  loving,  soothing  hand  minister  to 

48 


"  The  enemy  is  there,  General, 
and  1  am  going  to  strike  him," 
said  Marse  Robert  in  his  firm, 
quiet  voice. — Page  Q4. 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

him.  He  was,  he  is  and  he  will  always  be, 
even  were  his  pistol  pointed  at  my  heart,  my 
dear,  loved  friend.  May  God  bless  him  and 
spare  his  life.  You,  my  darling,  may  not  be 
in  sympathy  with  this  feeling,  for  I  know  you 
see  "no  good  in  Nazareth."  Forgive  me  for 
feeling  differently  from  you,  little  one,  and 
please  don't  love  me  any  the  less.  You  cannot 
understand  the  entente  cordiale  between  us 
"old  fellows." 

Faithfully, 

7our  Soldier. 

Mechanicsville  Turnpike,  June  1,  1862. 


49 


V 

Containing  a  Presentiment   of  Danger — the 

Night  Before  He  was  Wounded  at 

Gaines's  Mill 

ALL  last  night,  my  darling  Sally,  the  spirit 
of  my  dear  mother  seemed  to  hover  over 
me.  When  she  was  living  and  I  used  to  feel 
in  that  way,  I  always,  as  sure  as  fate,  received 
from  her  a  letter  written  at  the  very  time  that 
I  had  the  sensation  of  her  presence.  I  wonder 
if  up  there  she  is  watching  over  me,  trying  to 
send  me  some  message — some  warning.  I 
wish  I  knew. 

This  morning  my  brigade  moved  from  its 
cantonments  on  the  Williamsburg  road  and 
by  daybreak  was  marching  along  the  Mechan- 
icsville  turnpike,  leading  north  of  Richmond. 
The  destination  and  character  of  the  expedi- 
tion, my  darling,  is  unknown;  but  the  position 
of  other  troops  indicates  a  general  movement. 
This  evening  we  crossed  the  Chickahominy 
and  are  bivouacked  on  our  guns  in  the  road 
in  front  of  Mechanicsville,  from  which  point 

50 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

I  am  blessing  my  spirit  and  refreshing  my  soul 
by  sending  a  message  to  my  promised  wife. 
I  am  tired  and  sleepy,  several  times  to-day 
going  to  sleep  on  my  horse. 

This  war  was  really  never  contemplated  in 
earnest.  I  believe  if  either  the  North  or  the 
South  had  expected  that  their  differences 
would  result  in  this  obstinate  struggle,  the 
cold-blooded  Puritan  and  the  cock  hatted 
Huguenot  and  Cavalier  would  have  made  a 
compromise.  Poor  old  Virginia  came  oftener 
than  Noah's  dove  with  her  olive  branch. 
Though  she  desired  to  be  loyal  to  the  Union 
of  States,  she  did  not  believe  in  the  right  of 
coercion,  and  when  called  upon  to  furnish 
troops  to  restrain  her  sister  states  she  refused, 
and  would  not  even  permit  the  passage  of  an 
armed  force  through  her  domain  for  that  pur- 
pose. With  no  thought  of  cost,  she  rolled  up 
her  sleeves,  ready  to  risk  all  in  defense  of  a 
principle  consecrated  by  the  blood  of  her 
fathers.  And  now,  alas,  it  is  too  late.  We 
must  carry  through  this  bitter  task  unto  the 
end.     May  the  end  be  soon! 

Your  Soldier. 

In  Camp,  June  27,  I862. 
51 


VI 

At  His   Old  Home  Recovering  From  His 
Wound 

IT  is  only  when  you  are  here  with  me,  my 
darling,  that  I  am  not  chafing,  fretting, 
under  my  enforced  absence  from  my  com- 
mand. As  poor  a  marksman  as  the  Yankee 
was  who  shot  me,  I  wish  he  had  been  poorer 
Still,  aiming,  as  he  must  have  been,  either  at 
my  head  or  my  heart  and  breaking  my  wing. 
He  was  frightened,  too,  I  suspect,  and  had, 
besides,  too  much  powder  in  his  load.  What 
did  you  want  with  that  shot-smoked,  burnt 
coat  sleeve?  The  arm  it  held  is  yours  to  work 
for  and  shield  you,  my  love,  for  always. 

Impatient  and  restive  as  I  am  to  get  back 
to  the  field,  letters  and  reports  just  received 
show  me  that  I  am  not  missed  and  that  my 
gallant  old  brigade  is  proving  its  valor  as 
loyally  under  its  new  leader  as  when  it  so  fear- 
lessly followed  your  Soldier.     It  held  Water- 

52 


THE    HEART   OF    A    SOLDIER 

loo  Bridge  against  Pope  while  Jackson  crossed 
the  Rappahannock,  and  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  30th  received  and  repelled  the  on- 
set of  Fitz  John  Porter,  magnificently  clear- 
ing the  field  and  winning  a  victory  for  our 
arms. 

The  news  came,  too,  this  morning  of  the 
death  of  Kearny,  one  of  the  most  brilliant  gen- 
erals of  the  Federal  Army,  a  man  whose  fame 
as  a  soldier  is  world-wide.  I  knew  him  first 
in  Mexico,  where,  as  you  know,  he  lost  an  arm 
at  the  siege  of  Mexico  City.  In  Algeria  he 
won  the  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor.  He 
fought  with  the  French  in  the  battles  of 
Magenta  and  Solferino  and  received  also  from 
Napoleon  Third  the  decoration  of  the  Legion 
of  Honor.  I  wish  we  had  taken  him  prisoner 
instead  of  shooting  him.  I  hate  to  have  such 
a  man  as  Kearny  killed.  Marse  Robert,  who 
was  his  old  friend,  sent  his  body  to  Pope  under 
a  flag  of  truce.  I  am  glad  he  did  that — poor 
old  Kearny! 

The  same  courier,  brought  the  sad  news 
that  our  Ewell  had  lost  a  leg  and  our  Tallia- 
ferro  had  been  wounded.  And  these  are  the 
horrors  to  which,  when  away  from  you,  my 

S3 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

beautiful  darling,  your  soldier  is  impatient  to 
return. 

Never,  never  did  men,  since  the  world  be- 
gan, fight  like  ours.  The  Duke  of  Somerset, 
who  sneeringly  laughed  when  he  saw  our 
ragged,  dirty,  barefooted  soldiers — "Mostly 
beardless  boys,"  as  he  said — took  off  his  hat  in 
reverence  when  he  saw  them  fight. 

Lovingly, 

Your  Soldier. 

July  i$,  1862. 


54 


VII 

Mostly  Concerning  Bob,  His  Body-Servant 

HOW  I  shall  miss  your  visit  to-day,  my 
darling!  I  wish  you  had  not  gone. 
Don't  stay.  Doctor  Minnegerode  asked  me 
this  morning  when  he  called,  "Who  sent  the 
beautiful  flowers?"  Bob,  to  save  me  from 
answering,  said,  "De  same  young  lady  sont  de 
flowers,  Marse  Doctor,  dat  'broidered  dat  cape 
fer  Marse  George,  en  'broidered  dem  dar 
slippers  he's  got  on,  en  sont  him  de  'broidered 
stars  dat  he  w'ars  on  his  coat  when  he  w'ars 
it;  but  dat  young  lady  ain't  de  only  est  young 
lady  dat  sends  Marse  George  flowers  en 
things.     No,  Suh." 

The  dear  old  doctor  understood;  he  winked 
at  me  and  changed  the  subject.  He  is  as  loyal 
to  the  South,  dear  old  fellow,  as  if  his  ances- 
tors had  landed  at  Jamestown.  When  he 
asked  after  my  wound  he  said  he  would  like 
to  pray  with  me,  though  the  dear  old  man 
55 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

pronounced  it,  with  his  German  accent, 
"bray,"  and  that  reminded  me  of  a  story,  and 
instead  of  having  my  thoughts  and  my  heart 
set  upon  his  beautiful  prayer  as  I  should  have 
— miserable  sinner  that  I  was — I  began  think- 
ing of  Tom  August,  who  said  that  one  Sunday 
someone  meeting  him  coming  out  of  Old  St. 
Paul's  asked  him  what  was  the  matter.  He 
replied,  "Oh,  nothing.  I'm  not  a  jackass  and 
I'm  not  going  to  bray,  and  old  Doctor  Minne- 
gerode  not  only  insists  that  I,  but  that  his 
whole  congregation,  shall  'bray.'  I,  for  one, 
will  not  do  it  and  I  don't  want  to  make  a  row 
about  it;  so  I  came  out.  I  wonder  what  the 
effect  would  be  if  we  took  him  literally  and 
did  all 'bray'?" 

Now,  my  darling,  forgive  this  foolish  story. 
I  learned  to  like  story-telling,  listening  as  a 
boy  to  the  best  story-teller  in  the  world,  Mr. 
Lincoln. 

Even  the  bird  knows  you  are  not  coming 
to-day,  for  he  doesn't  sing.  I  shall  hold  you 
to  the  last  line  of  your  sweet  note,  which  says, 
"I'll  come  to  you,  my  Soldier,  before  the 
flowers  die."  When  Bob  asked  me,  "Is  Miss 
Sallie  comin'  dis  ebenin'  er  in  de  mornin'?" 

56 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

I  answered,  "She  does  not  mention  any  set 
time,  Bob. ,  She  only  says  she'll  come  before 
the  flowers  die."  "De  flowers  ain't  waxinated 
flowers,  is  dey,  Marse  George?"  he  asked. 
"Den  if  dey  ain't  waxinated  'twon't  be  long  fo' 
she  is  here." 

When  I  asked  him  to  hold  the  paper  while 
I  wrote,  he  humbly,  beseechingly  asked, 
"Please,  Suh,  Marse  George,  ef  hit  ain't  axin' 
too  much,  when  you  comes  ter  writin'  er  dem 
dar  words  lak  love  en  honey  en  darlin',  er  any 
er  dem  poetry  rhymes  'bout  roses  red  en 
violets  blue,  won't  you  please,  Suh,  show  'em 
ter  me?"  I  didn't  promise  him,  my  sweet- 
heart. I  only  said,  "Hold  that  paper  steady, 
Sir,  and  don't  let  it  slip."  But  when  I  did 
call  you  "darling"  or  tell  you  I  loved  you,  I 
felt  so  guilty  that  the  rascal  knew  it  and 
grinned. 


Your  own 

Soldier. 


July  18,  1862. 


57 


VIII 

Written  Upon  His  Return  to  His  Old  Com- 
mand 

DARLING,  my  heart  turns  to  you  with  a 
love  so  great  that  pain  follows  in  its 
wake.  You  cannot  understand  this,  my  beau- 
tiful, bright-eyed,  sunny-hearted  princess. 
Your  face,  is  the  sweetest  face  in  all  the  world, 
mirroring,  as  it  does,  all  that  is  pure  and  un- 
selfish, and  I  must  not  cast  a  shadow  over  it  by 
the  fears  that  come  to  me,  in  spite  of  myself. 
No,  a  soldier  should  not  know  fear  of  any 
kind.  I  must  fight  and  plan  and  hope,  and 
you  must  pray.  Pray  for  a  realization  of  all 
our  beautiful  dreams,  sitting  beside  our  own 
hearthstone  in  our  own  home — you  and  I,  you 
my  goddess  of  devotion,  and  I  your  devoted 
slave.  May  God  in  his  mercy  spare  my  life 
and  make  it  worthy  of  you ! 

My  shoulder  and  arm  are  still  quite  stiff, 
and  I  cannot  yet  put  my  sleeve  on  the  wounded 
arm.  I  have  on  one  sleeve,  and  my  coat  is 
thrown  over  my  other  shoulder  and  other  arm. 

58 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

I  can  reach  my  mouth  with  my  hand  by  bend- 
ing my  neck  way  over;  so  I  am  not  helpless. 
Bob  still  buttons  my  collar  and  does  some 
other  little  services.  Until  I  have  more  con- 
trol of  my  arm,  however,  I  shall  confine  my- 
self to  riding  old  Black  and  not  venture  on 
Lucy.     Enough  of  so  small  a  matter. 

My  boys  are  delighted  to  welcome  me  back, 
showing  their  affection  for  me  in  many,  many 
ways.  Garnett  is  still  in  command  of  my  dear 
old  brigade,  which  was  temporarily  turned 
over  to  him  when  I  was  wounded  and  which, 
under  his  gallant  leadership,  has  sustained  its 
old  reputation  for  fearlessness  and  endurance. 
I  miss  dear,  familiar  faces,  for  many  of  the 
brave  fellows  have  been  killed  and  wounded. 
You  have  heard  me  speak  of  Colonel  Strange 
— a  gallant  soldier.  He  was  wounded  and 
left  behind.  After  he  was  shot  the  plucky  old 
chap  called  out  in  a  loud,  clear  voice,  "Stand 
firm,  boys ;  stand  firm." 

Well,  the  Yankees  won  the  battle,  but  Mc- 
Clellan's  delay  in  winning  enabled  Old  Jack 1 
to  seize  Harper's  Ferry,  so  it  was  not  so  great 
a  victory  for  them  after  all.     Old  Jack's  note 

1  General  Stonewall  Jackson. 
59 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

to  Marse  Robert,  telling  him  of  his  success, 
was  characteristic  in  both  brevity  and  diction. 
He  said,  "Through  God's  mercy  Harper's 
Ferry  and  its  garrison  are  to  be  surrendered." 

The  seventeenth  following  is  recorded  in  let- 
ters of  blood  for  both  armies,  and  in  its  wake 
came  Lincoln's  great  political  victory,  prov- 
ing the  might  of  the  pen,  in  his  Emancipation 
Proclamation — winning  with  it  the  greatest 
victory  yet  for  the  North.  It  will  behoove  us 
now  to  heed  well  the  old  story  of  "The  Lark 
and  the  Husbandman,"  for  it  will  be  farewell 
to  all  foreign  intervention  unless  Greek  meets 
Greek  and  we  fight  fire  with  fire  and  we,  too, 
issue  an  Emancipation  Proclamation.  I  pray 
God  that  the  powers  that  reign  will  have  the 
wisdom  and  foresight  to  see  this  in  its  true 
and  all-pervading  light.  It  would  end  the 
war,  and  I  should  assume  as  soon  as  practi- 
cable the  role  of  schoolmaster  and  husband  to 
the  brightest  little  pupil  and  the  sweetest  little 
wife  in  all  the  world. 

Your  Soldier. 

P.  S.  Have  been  placed  temporarily  in 
command  of  a  division. 

Headquarters,  Sept.  25,  1862. 

60 


IX 


On  the  Occasion  of  His  Promotion  to  the  Rank 

of  Major-General — Telling  of  Jackson  and 

Garnett 

TO-DAY  I  was  officially  promoted  to  the 
rank  of  Major-General  and  permanently 
placed  in  command  of  a  division.  My  dear 
old  brigade,  which  I  love  and  which  was  with 
me  in  the  battles  of  Williamsburg,  Seven  Pines 
and  Gaines's  Mill,  was  assigned  to  General 
Garnett  and  there  comes  somehow,  in  spite  of 
everything,  a  little  "kind  of  curious"  feeling 
within  when  I  hear  it  called  "Garnett's  Bri- 
gade," even  though  he  has  been  in  command 
of  it  almost  ever  since  I  was  wounded  and  has 
won  for  it  distinction  and  from  it  love  and 
respect. 

Old  Dick  is  a  fine  fellow,  a  brave,  splendid 
soldier.  He  was  in  the  Mexican  war  and  was 
wounded  in  the  battle  of  Mexico.  He  com- 
manded a  brigade  under  Old  Jack  and  was 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

for  a  time  in  command  of  the  famous  old 
"Stonewall  Brigade."  You  have  not  met  him, 
my  sweetheart;  but  I  want  you  to  know  him. 
He  is  as  sensitive  and  proud  as  he  is  fearless 
and  sweet-spirited,  and  has  felt  more  keenly 
than  most  men  would  Old  Jack's  censure  of 
him  at  the  battle  of  Kernstown,  when  all  his 
ammunition  gave  out  and  he  withdrew  his 
brigade  from  the  field,  for  which  Old  Jack 
had  him  arrested  and  relieved  from  duty. 
Old  Jack  told  Lawton  that  in  arresting  Gar- 
nett  he  had  no  reference  to  his  want  of  daring, 
which  was  surprising  for  Old  Jack  to  say,  who 
never  explains  anything. 

Lawton,  who  is  one  of  his  generals,  says  Old 
Jack  holds  himself  as  the  god  of  war,  giving 
short,  sharp  commands,  distinctly,  rapidly  and 
decisively,  without  consultation  or  explanation 
and  disregarding  suggestions  and  remon- 
strances. Being  himself  absolutely  fearless, 
and  having  unusual  mental  and  moral,  as 
well  as  physical,  courage,  he  goes  ahead  on  his 
own  hook,  asking  no  advice  and  resenting  in- 
terference. He  places  no  value  on  human 
life,  caring  for  nothing  so  much  as  fighting, 
unless  it  be  praying.     Illness,  wounds  and  all 

62 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

disabilities  he  defines  as  inefficiency  and  in- 
dications of  a  lack  of  patriotism.  Suffering 
from  insomnia,  he  often  uses  his  men  as  a  seda- 
tive, and  when  he  can't  sleep  calls  them  out, 
marches  them  out  a  few  miles;  then  marches 
them  back.  He  never  praises  his  men  for  gal- 
lantry, because  it  is  their  duty  to  be  gallant 
and  they  do  not  deserve  credit  for  doing  their 
duty.  Well,  my  own  darling,  I  only  pray  that 
God  may  spare  him  to  us  to  see  us  through. 
If  General  Lee  had  Grant's  resources  he  would 
soon  end  the  war;  but  Old  Jack  can  do  it  with- 
out resources. 

Bless  your  heart,  here  I  am  talking  of  these 
old  war-horses  to  my  flower  queen.  Well,  she 
knows  how  entirely  I  love  her  and  how  I  have 
left  in  her  keeping  my  soul's  all. 

Lovingly  and  faithfully, 

Your  Soldier. 

Headquarters,  Oct.  II,  1862. 


63 


X 

From  the  Field  of  Fredericksburg 

HERE  we  are,  my  darling,  at  Fredericks- 
burg, on  the  south  side  of  the  Rappahan- 
nock, half-way  between  Richmond  and  Wash- 
ington, fortified  for  us  by  the  hand  of  the 
Great  Father. 

I  penciled  you  a  note  by  old  Jackerie  1  on  the 
1 2th  from  the  foot  of  the  Hills  between  Hazel 
Run  and  the  Telegraph  Road.  In  it  I  sent 
a  hyacinth — given  me  by  a  pretty  lady  who 
came  out  with  beaten  biscuit — and  some  un- 
written and  written  messages  from  Old  Peter 
and  Old  Jack,  Hood,  Ewell,  Stuart,  and  your 
"brothers,"  to  the  "someone"  to  whom  I  was 
writing. 

My  division,  nine  thousand  strong,  is  in  fine 
shape.  It  was  on  the  field  of  battle,  as  a  divi- 
sion, for  the  first  time  yesterday,  though  only 
one  brigade,  Kemper's,  was  actively  engaged. 

1  Headquarters  Postmaster. 

64 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

What  a  day  it  was,  my  darling — this  ever  to  be 
remembered  by  many  of  us  thirteenth  of  De- 
cember— dawning  auspiciously  upon  us  clad 
in  deepest,  darkest  mourning!  A  fog  such  as 
would  shame  London  lay  over  the  valley,  and 
through  the  dense  mist  distinctly  came  the  un- 
canny commands  of  the  unseen  opposing  offi- 
cers. My  men  were  eager  to  be  in  the  midst  of 
the  fight,  and  if  Hood  had  not  been  so  cautious 
they  would  probably  have  immortalized  them- 
selves. Old  Peter's  orders  were  that  Hood  and 
myself  were  to  hold  our  ground  of  defense  un- 
less we  should  see  an  opportunity  to  attack  the 
enemy  while  engaged  with  A.  P.  Hill  on  the 
right.  A  little  after  ten,  when  the  fog  had 
lifted  and  Stuart's  cannon  from  the  plain  of 
Massaponax  were  turned  upon  Meade  and 
when  Franklin's  advance  left  the  enemy's  flank 
open,  I  went  up  to  Hood  and  urged  him  to 
seize  the  opportunity;  but  he  was  afraid  to  as- 
sume so  great  a  responsibility  and  sent  for  per- 
mission to  Old  Peter,  who  was  with  Marse 
Robert  in  a  different  part  of  the  field.  Before 
his  assent  and  approval  were  received,  the  op- 
portunity, alas,  was  lost! 

If  war,  my  darling,  is  a  necessity — and  I 
65 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

suppose  it  is — it  is  a  very  cruel  one.  Your 
Soldier's  heart  almost  stood  still  as  he  watched 
those  sons  of  Erin  fearlessly  rush  to  their 
death.  The  brilliant  assault  on  Marye's 
Heights  of  their  Irish  Brigade  was  beyond 
description.  Why,  my  darling,  we  forgot 
they  were  fighting  us,  and  cheer  after  cheer 
at  their  fearlessness  went  up  all  along  our 
lines.  About  fifty  of  my  division  sleep  their 
last  sleep  at  the  foot  of  Marye's  Heights. 

I  can't  help  feeling  sorry  for  Old  Burnside 
< — proud,  plucky,  hard-headed  old  dog.  I  al- 
ways liked  him,  but  I  loved  little  Mac,1  and  it 
was  a  godsend  to  the  Confederacy  that  he  was 
relieved. 

Oh,  my  darling,  war  and  its  results  did  not 
seem  so  awful  till  the  love  for  you  came. 
Now — now  I  want  to  love  and  bless  and  help 
everything,  and  there  are  no  foes — no  enemies 
— just  love  for  you  and  longing  for  you. 

Your  Soldier. 

Fredericksburg,  Dec.  14,  1862. 

1  General  McClellan. 


66 


PART      TWO 


During  the  Six  Months 

Campaign  Before 

Gettysburg 


67 


TT\URING  the  period  cowered  by  the 
•L-J  letters  in  this  part  the  burdens  of 
the  war  fell  heavily  upon  the  soul  of 
the  General's  little  sweetheart,  as  they 
did  upon  the  whole  South.  Lee's  cam- 
paign into  Pennsylvania  carried  his  army 
for  many  months  into  the  country  of  the 
enemy.  It  was  a  land  that  was  strange 
to  the  men  and  stranger  still  to  the  im- 
agination of  the  sorrowing  ones  who 
stayed  behind.  And  at  the  end  of  it  came 
Gettysburg,  where  more  than  five  thou- 
sand sons  and  husbands  and  lovers  laid 
down  their  lives  for  the  cause  they  thought 
to    be   just. 

Pickett's  charge  at  Gettysburg  is  one 
of  those  deeds  of  arms  that  are  immortal. 
When  it  was  over — ending  in  defeat  as 
it  did,  on  account  of  the  lack  of  promised 
supports — two-thirds  of  his  beloved  di- 
vision lay  sleeping  on  the  slope  of  Ceme- 
tary  Ridge  and  the  heart  of  their  fearless 
commander  was  crushed  by  the  thought  of 
their  sacrifice  and  the  suffering  that  it 
meant  to  the  Southland. 


XI 

From  the  General's  Old  Home  On  the  Suffolk 
Expedition 

TO-DAY  I  rode  on  ahead  of  my  division, 
stopped  for  a  moment  at  our  old  home, 
ran  into  the  garden  and  gathered  for  my  dar- 
ling some  lilies  of  the  valley,  planted  by  my 
sweet  mother,  which  I  knew  were  now  in  the 
full  glory  of  their  blossoming.  As  I  plucked 
them  one  by  one,  I  thought  of  the  dear  mother 
who  had  planted  them  and  the  sweet  bride- 
to-be  who  would  receive  them,  and  my  heart 
went  up  in  gratitude  for  the  great  love  given 
me  by  both. 

While  I  am  writing  to  you,  Braxton  and 
the  cook  and  the  whole  household,  in  fact, 
are  busy  getting  a  lunch  for  me  and  preparing 
to  load  up  my  courier  and  my  boy,  Bob,  with 
as  many  more  lunches  as  they  can  carry,  to  be 
distributed  as  far  as  they  will  go.  My  little 
sister  is  making  a  paper  box  to  hold  my  lilies 
69 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

for  you,  and  I  am  writing  a  love-letter  to  stand 
sentinel  over  them  and  guard  the  sweet,  sacred 
messages  entrusted  to  them.  Old  Jackerie 
will  take  them  to  you  and  will  also  bring  you, 
with  my  sister's  love,  a  box  of  her  own  home- 
made dulces. 

Perhaps,  sweetheart,  perhaps  I  say,  you  will 
see  your  Soldier  sooner  than  you  think.  You 
know  that  since  the  capture  of  Roanoke  Island 
and  our  abandonment  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk, 
all  that  section  of  the  country  has  been  in  the 
hands  of  the  enemy.  Now  in  the  extreme 
northeast  corner  of  North  Carolina  are  stored 
away  large  quantities  of  corn  and  bacon.  Old 
Peter,  our  far-seeing,  slow  but  sure,  indefati- 
gable, plodding  old  war-horse,  has  planned  to 
secure  some  of  these  sorely  needed  supplies  for 
our  poor,  half  fed  army — and  there  never  was 
such  an  army,  such  an  uncomplaining,  plucky 
body  of  men — never. 

Why,  my  darling,  during  these  continuous 
ten  days'  march,  the  ground  snowy  and  sleety, 
the  feet  of  many  of  these  soldiers  covered  only 
with  improvised  moccasins  of  raw  beef  hide, 
and  hundreds  of  them  without  shoes  or  blan- 
ks 


THE    HEART   OF    A    SOLDIER 

kets  or  overcoats,  they  have  not  uttered  one 
word  of  complaint,  nor  one  murmuring  tone; 
but  cheerily,  singing  or  telling  stories,  they 
have  tramped  —  tramped  —  tramped.  To 
crown  it  all,  after  having  marched  sixty  miles 
over  half  frozen,  slushy  roads  chey  passed  to- 
day through  Richmond,  the  home  of  many  of 
them,  without  a  halt,  with  not  a  straggler — 
greeted  and  cheered  by  sweethearts,  wives, 
mothers  and  friends.  "God  bless  you,  my 
darling,"  "God  bless  you,  my  son,"  "Hello, 
old  man,"  "Howdy,  Charley,"  rang  all  along 
the  line.  Lunches,  slices  of  bread  and  meat, 
bottles  of  milk  or  hot  coffee  were  thrust  into 
grateful  hands  by  the  dear  people  of  Rich- 
mond, who  thus  brought  comfort  and  cheer 
to  many  a  hungry  one  besides  their  very  own, 
as  the  men  hurriedly  returned  the  greetings 
and  marched  on.  You  would  hardly  recog- 
nize these  ragged,  barefoot  soldiers  as  the 
trim,  tidy  boys  of  two  years  ago  in  their  hand- 
some gray  uniforms,  with  shining  equipment 
and  full  haversacks  and  knapsacks. 

Be  brave  and  help  me  to  be  brave,  my  dar- 
ling, and  to  trust  in  God.  I  won't  say,  "Keep 
7i 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

your  powder  dry,"  for  one  who  doesn't  know 
enough  to  do  that  is  not  much  of  a  soldier. 
Faithfully  and  forever  your 

Soldier. 

Richmond,  February,  1863. 


72 


XII 

In  Which  He  Urges  his  Betrothed  to  Marry 
Him  at  Once 

THIS  morning  I  awakened  from,  a  beauti- 
ful dream,  and  while  its  glory  still  over- 
shadows the  waking  and  fills  my  soul  with 
radiance  I  write  to  make  an  earnest  request — 
entreating,  praying,  that  you  will  grant  it. 
You  know,  my  darling,  we  have  no  prophets 
in  these  days  to  tell  us  how  near  or  how  far  is 
the  end  of  this  awful  struggle.  If  "the  battle 
is  not  to  the  strong"  then  we  may  win;  but 
when  all  our  ports  are  closed  and  the  world 
is  against  us,  when  for  us  a  man  killed  is  a 
man  lost,  while  Grant  may  have  twenty-five 
of  every  nation  to  replace  one  of  his,  it  seems 
that  the  battle  is  to  the  strong.  So  often  al- 
ready has  hope  been  dashed  to  the  winds. 

Why,  dear,  only  a  little  while  since,  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  recrossed  the  Rappa- 
hannock, defeated,  broken  in  spirit,  the  men 
73 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

deserting,  the  subordinate  officers  so  severe  in 
their  criticism  of  their  superiors  that  the  great 
Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Army,  Mr.  Lin- 
coln, felt  it  incumbent  upon  him  to  write  a 
severe  letter  of  censure  and  rebuke.  Note  the 
change  and  hear  their  bugle-call  of  hope. 
Hooker,  who  is  alleged  to  have  "the  finest 
army  on  the  planet,"  is  reported  to  be  on  the 
eve  of  moving  against  Richmond.  My  divi- 
sion and  that  of  Hood,  together  with  the 
artillery  of  Dearing  and  Henry,  have  been 
ordered  to  a  point  near  Petersburg  to  meet  this 
possible  movement. 

Now,  my  darling,  may  angels  guide  my  pen 
and  help  me  to  write — help  me  to  voice  this 
longing  desire  of  my  heart  and  intercede  for 
me  with  you  for  a  speedy  fulfillment  of  your 
promise  to  be  my  wife.  As  you  know,  it  is 
imperative  that  I  should  remain  at  my  post 
and  absolutely  impossible  for  me  to  come  for 
you.  So  you  will  have  to  come  to  me.  Will 
you,  dear?  Will  you  come?  Can't  your 
beautiful  eyes  see  beyond  the  mist  of  my 
eagerness  and  anxiety  that  in  the  bewilderment 
of  my  worship — worshiping,  as  I  do,  one  so 
divinely  right,  and  feeling  that  my  love  is  re- 

74 


THE    HEART   OF    A    SOLDIER 

turned — how  hard  it  is  for  me  to  ask  you  to 
overlook  old-time  customs,  remembering  only 
that  you  are  to  be  a  soldier's  wife?  A  week,  a 
day,  an  hour  as  your  husband  would  engulf  in 
its  great  joy  all  my  past  woes  and  ameliorate 
all  future  fears. 

So,  my  Sally,  don't  let's  wait;  send  me  a  line 
back  by  Jackerie  saying  you  will  come.  Come 
at  once,  my  darling,  into  this  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  uncertainty,  and  make  certain  the 
comfort  that  if  I  should  fall  I  shall  fall  as  your 
husband. 

You  know  that  I  love  you  with  a  devotion 
that  absorbs  all  else — a  devotion  so  divine  that 
when  in  dreams  I  see  you  it  is  as  something 
too  pure  and  sacred  for  mortal  touch.  And  if 
you  only  knew  the  heavenly  life  which  thrills 
me  through  when  I  make  it  real  to  myself  that 
you  love  me,  you  would  understand.  Think, 
my  dear  little  one,  of  the  uncertainty  and  dan- 
gers of  even  a  day  of  separation,  and  don't  let 
the  time  come  when  either  of  us  will  look  back 
and  say,  "It  might  have  been." 

If  I  am  spared,  my  dear,  all  my  life  shall  be 
devoted  to  making  you  happy,  to  keeping  all 
that  would  hurt  you  far  from  you,  to  making 
75 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

all  that  is  good  come  near  to  you.  Heaven 
will  help  me  to  be  ever  helpful  to  you  and 
will  bless  me  to  bless  you.  If  you  knew  how 
every  hour  I  kneel  at  your  altar,  if  you  could 
hear  the  prayers  I  offer  to  you  and  to  our 
Heavenly  Father  for  you,  if  you  knew  the  in- 
cessant thought  and  longing  and  desire  to 
make  you  blessed,  you  would  know  how  much 
your  answer  will  mean  to  me  and  how,  while 
I  plead,  I  am  held  back  by  a  reverence  and  a 
sensitive  adoration  for  you.  For,  my  Sally, 
you  are  my  goddess  and  I  am  only 
Your  devoted, 

Soldier. 

In  Camp,  April  15,  1863. 

Note:  To  those  who  recall  the  rigid  system  of  social 
training  in  which  a  girl  of  that  period  was  reared,  it  will 
not  seem  strange  that  a  maiden,  even  in  war  times,  could 
not  seriously  contemplate  the  possibility  of  leaving  home 
and  being  married  by  the  wayside  in  that  desultory  and 
unstudied  fashion.  So,  though  my  heart  responded  to 
the  call,  what  could  I  do  but  adhere  to  the  social  laws, 
more  formidable  than  were  ever  the  majestic  canons  of 
the  ecclesiasts?  My  Soldier  admitted  that  I  was  right, 
and  we   agreed   to  await  a  more   favorable   time. — La- 

SALLE   CORBELL   PlCKETT. 


76 


XIII 

Warning  Her  to  Leave  the  Danger  Zone 

HOPING,  my  darling,  that  you  heeded 
your  Soldier's  admonition,  and  are  now 
safe  across  the  "Black  Water,"  I  am  taking 
the  risk  of  sending  to  you  at  Ivor,  by  my  boy 
servant,  Bob,  a  little  box  of  dulces  and  a  note 
filled  with  adoration. 

My  orders  to  follow  Hood's  Division  have 
been  countermanded.  Hood  was  hurried  on 
from  the  "Black  Water"  by  rail  to  rejoin 
Marse  Robert,  who  has  just  gained  a  great 
victory  at  Chancellorsville.  I  am  ordered  in- 
stead to  proceed  at  once  with  three  of  my  bri- 
gades to  Petersburg,  via  the  "Jerusalem- 
Plank-Road,"  to  intercept  a  cavalry  raid. 

Perhaps,  my  darling,  I  shall  have  met  these 
raiders  ere  this  reaches  you.  Who  knows 
how  many  of  us  may  then  hear  the  roll-call 
from  the  other  side  and  be  sorry?  But  sorry 
for  whom?  For  the  comrades  who  answer  to 
77 


THE    HEART   OF    A    SOLDIER 

their  names  and  are  reported  present,  or  for 
those  whose  spirit  voices,  just  born,  have  not 
yet  gained  the  power  to  reach  the  ear  of  the 
orderly  and  who  are  reported  dead,  even 
though  they,  too,  answer,  "Here"?  For,  my 
darling,  there  is  no  death,  and  you  must  feel 
— must  know — now  and  always,  that  whether 
here  or  there,  at  the  roll-call  your  Soldier 
answers,  "Here." 

Now,  adieu,  my  beloved.  Close  your 
brown  eyes  and  feel  my  arms  around  you,  for 
I  am  holding  you  close — oh,  so  close! 

Forever  your 

Soldier. 

Suffolk,  May  5,  1863. 


78 


XIV 
Written  When  Lee  Crossed  the  Potomac 

EACH  day,  my  darling,  takes  me  farther 
and  farther  away  from  you,  from  all  I 
love  and  hold  dear.  We  have  been  guarding 
the  passes  of  the  Blue  Ridge.  To-day,  under 
orders  from  Marse  Robert,  we  cross  the  Po- 
tomac. McLaws'  and  Hood's  Divisions  and 
the  three  brigades  of  my  division  follow  on 
after  Hill.  May  our  Heavenly  Father  bless 
us  with  an  early  and  a  victorious  return.  But 
even  then,  the  price  of  it — the  price  of  it,  my 
little  one — the  blood  of  our  countrymen! 
God  in  His  mercy  temper  the  wind  to  us! 

As  I  returned  the  salute  of  my  men,  many 
of  them  beardless  boys,  the  terrible  respon- 
sibility as  their  Commander  almost  over- 
whelmed me,  and  my  heart  was  rent  in  prayer 
for  guidance  and  help.  Oh,  the  desolate 
homes — the  widows  and  orphans  and  heart- 
broken mothers  that  this  campaign  will  make! 
How  many  of  them,  so  full  of  hope  and  cheer 
79 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

now,  will  cross  that  other  river  which  lands 
them  at  the  Eternal  Home. 

Have  faith,  my  little  one;  keep  up  a 
"skookum  tum-tum."  1  Your  soldier  feels  that 
he  will  return  to  claim  his  bride — his  beauti- 
ful, glorious  bride.  And  then  we  shall  be  so 
happy,  my  darling,  that  all  our  days  to  come, 
we  will  show  our  loving  gratitude  to  our 
Father  for  His  mercy  in  sparing  us  to  each 
other. 

Now,  my  Sally,  how  I  hate  to  say  it- 
adieu.  Do  you  remember  how  many  times 
we  said  good-by  that  last  evening?  And  then 
as  I  heard  the  latch  of  the  gate  click  and  shut 
me  out,  I  was  obliged  to  go  back.  I  could  not 
stand  the  cruelty  of  the  sound  of  that  latch — 
it  seemed  to  knife  my  soul.  I  turned  back  and 
said,  "Good  night!"  The  door  was  open;  I 
came  in.  You  thought  I  had  gone.  I  can't 
just  remember  how  many  times  I  said  good 
night.  I  know  I  did  not  close  the  gate  as  I 
went  out  again.  Keep  another  gate  open  for 
the  good  morning,  my  precious  bride-to-be. 
Oh,  the  bliss  to  be — the  bliss  to  be  then  for 

Your  Soldier. 

In  Camp,  June  iS,  l86j. 

1  Chinook  for  strong  heart. 

80 


XV 

On  the  Way  Through  Pennsylvania 

I  NEVER  could  quite  enjoy  being  a  "Con- 
quering Hero."  No,  my  dear,  there  is 
something  radically  wrong  about  my  Hurrah- 
ism.  I  can  fight  for  a  cause  I  know  to  be  just, 
can  risk  my  own  life  and  the  lives  of  those  in 
my  keeping  without  a  thought  of  the  con- 
sequences; but  when  we've  conquered,  when 
we've  downed  the  enemy  and  won  the  victory, 
I  don't  want  to  hurrah.  I  want  to  go  off  all 
by  myself  and  be  sorry  for  them — want  to  lie 
down  in  the  grass,  away  off  in  the  woods  some- 
where or  in  some  lone  valley  on  the  hillside 
far  from  all  human  sound,  and  rest  my  soul 
and  put  my  heart  to  sleep  and  get  back  some- 
thing— I  don't  know  what — but  something  I 
had  that  is  gone  from  me — something  subtle 
and  unexplainable — something  I  never  knew 
I  had  till  I  had  lost  it — till  it  was  gone — gone 
— gone ! 

Yesterday  my  men  were  marching  victo- 
81 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

riously  through  the  little  town  of  Greencastle, 
the  bands  all  playing  our  glorious,  soul  inspir- 
ing, southern  airs:  "The  Bonny  Blue  Flag," 
"My  Maryland,"  "Her  Bright  Smile  Haunts 
Me  Still,"  and  the  soldiers  all  happy,  hopeful, 
joyously  keeping  time  to  the  music,  many  fol- 
lowing it  with  their  voices  and  making  up  for 
the  want  of  the  welcome  they  were  not  receiv- 
ing in  the  enemy's  country  by  cheering  them- 
selves and  giving  themselves  a  welcome.  As 
Floweree's  band,  playing  "Dixie,"  was  passing 
a  vine-bowered  home,  a  young  girl  rushed  out 
on  the  porch  and  waved  a  United  States  flag. 
Then,  either  fearing  that  it  might  be  taken 
from  her  or  finding  it  too  large  and  unwieldy, 
she  fastened  it  around  her  as  an  apron,  and 
taking  hold  of  it  on  each  side  and  waving  it  in 
defiance,  called  out  with  all  the  strength  of  her 
girlish  voice  and  all  the  courage  of  her  brave 
young  heart: 

"Traitors — traitors — traitors,  come  and  take 
this  flag,  the  man  of  you  who  dares !" 

Knowing  that  many  of  my  men  were  from  a 
section  of  the  country  which  had  been  within 
the  enemy's  lines,  and  fearing  lest  some  might 
forget  their  manhood,  I  took  off  my  hat  and 

82 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

bowed  to  her,  saluted  her  flag  and  then  turned, 
facing  the  men  who  felt  and  saw  my  unspoken 
order.  And  don't  you  know  that  they  were 
all  Virginians  and  didn't  forget  if,  and  that 
almost  every  man  lifted  his  cap  and  cheered 
the  little  maiden  who,  though  she  kept  on  wav- 
ing her  flag,  ceased  calling  us  traitors,  till 
letting  it  drop  in  front  of  her  she  cried  out: 

"Oh,  I  wish— I  wish  I  had  a  rebel  flag;  I'd 
wave  that,  too." 

The  picture  of  that  little  girl  in  the  vine- 
covered  porch,  beneath  the  purple  morning 
glories  with  their  closed  lips  and  bowed  heads 
waiting  and  saving  their  prettiness  and  bloom 
for  the  coming  morn — of  course,  I  thought  of 
you,  my  darling.  For  the  time,  that  little 
Greencastle  Yankee  girl  with  her  beloved  flag 
was  my  own  little  promised-to-be-wife,  receiv- 
ing from  her  Soldier  and  her  Soldier's  soldiers 
the  reverence  and  homage  due  her. 

We  left  the  little  girl  standing  there  with  the 
flag  gathered  up  in  her  arms,  as  if  too  sacred 
to  be  waved  now  that  even  the  enemy  had  done 
it  reverence.  As  ever, 

Your  Soldier. 

Greencastle,  Pa.,  June  24,  1863. 
83 


XVI 
Lines  Penned  on  the  Road  to  Gettysburg 

WE  crossed  the  Potomac  on  the  24th  at 
Williamsport  and  went  into  bivouac  on 
the  Maryland  side,  from  which  place  I  sent  my 
Lady-Love  a  long  letter  and  some  flowers 
gathered  on  the  way.  We  then  went  on  to 
Hagerstown,  where  we  met  A.  P.  Hill's  Corps, 
which  had  crossed  the  river  farther  down. 
From  Hagerstown  I  sent  to  the  same  and  only 
Lady-Love  another  letter,  which  was  not  only 
freighted  with  all  the  adoration  and  devotion 
of  her  Soldier's  heart,  but  contained  messages 
from  the  staff  and  promises  to  take  care  of  him 
and  bring  him  safely  back  to  her. 

We  made  no  delay  at  Hagerstown,  but  pass- 
ing through  in  the  rear  of  Hill's  Corps  moved 
on  up  Cumberland  Valley  and  bivouacked  at 
Greencastle,  where  the  most  homesick  letter  of 
all  yet  written  was  sent  to — well,  guess  whom 
this  time.     Why,  to  the  same  Lady-Love,  the 

84 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

sweetest,  loveliest  flower  that  ever  blossomed  to 
bless  and  make  fairer  a  beautiful  world — for  it 
is  beautiful,  betokening  in  its  loveliness  noth- 
ing of  this  deadly  strife  between  men  who 
should  be  brethren  of  a  great  and  common 
cause,  as  they  are  the  heritage  of  a  great  and 
common  country. 

The  officers  and  men  are  all  in  excellent 
condition,  bright  and  cheerful,  singing  songs 
and  telling  stories,  full  of  hope  and  courage, 
inspired  with  absolute  faith  and  confidence  in 
our  success.  There  is  no  straggling,  no  dis- 
order, no  dissatisfaction,  no  plundering,  and 
there  are  no  desertions.  Think  of  it,  my  dar- 
ling— an  army  of  sixty  thousand  men  march- 
ing through  the  enemy's  country  without  the 
least  opposition!  The  object  of  this  great 
movement  is,  of  course,  unknown  to  us.  Its 
purpose  and  our  destination  are  known  at 
present  only  to  the  Commanding  General  and 
his  Chief  Lieutenants.  The  men  generally 
believe  that  the  intention  is  to  entirely  sur- 
round the  Army  of  the  Potomac  and  place 
Washington  and  Baltimore  within  our  grasp. 
They  think  that  Marse  Robert  is  merely 
threatening  the  northern  cities,  with  the  view 
85 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

of  suddenly  turning  down  the  Susquehanna, 
cutting  off  all  railroad  connections,  destroying 
all  bridges,  throwing  his  army  north  of  Balti- 
more and  cutting  off  Washington,  and  that 
Beauregard  is  to  follow  on  directly  from  Rich- 
mond via  Manassas  to  Washington,  in  rear 
of  Hooker,  who  of  course  will  be  in  pursuit 
of  Marse  Robert. 

Nous  verrons. 

We  reached  here  this  morning,  June  27th, 
the  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  Gaines's  Mill, 
where  your  Soldier  was  wounded.  We 
marched  straight  through  the  town  of  Cham- 
bersburg,  which  was  more  deserted  than  Gold- 
smith's village.  The  stores  and  houses  were 
all  closed,  with  here  and  there  groups  of  un- 
cheerful  Boers  of  Deutschland  descent,  ear- 
nestly talking,  more  sylvan  shadows  than  smiles 
wreathing  their  faces.  I  had  given  orders  that 
the  bands  were  not  to  play;  but  as  we  were 
marching  through  the  northeastern  part  of 
the  city,  some  young  ladies  came  out  onto  the 
veranda  of  one  of  the  prettiest  homes  in  the 
town  and  asked: 

"Would  you  mind  shooting  off  the  bands  a 

bit?" 

86 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

So  the  command  was  given  and  the  band 
played  "Home  Sweet  Home,"  "Annie  Laurie,1' 
"Her  Bright  Smile  Haunts  Me  Still,"  "Nellie 
Gray"  and  "Hazel  Dell."  The  young  ladies 
asked  the  next  band  that  passed  if  they 
wouldn't  play  "Dixie";  but  the  band  instead 
struck  up  "The  Old  Oaken  Bucket,"  "The 
Swanee  River,"  "The  Old  Arm  Chair,"  "The 
Lone  Rock  by  the  Sea"  and  "Auld  Lang 
Syne." 

"Thought  you  was  rebels.  Where'd  you 
come  from  anyhow?  Can't  play  'Dixie,'  none 
of  you,"  they  called  out.  We  marched 
straight  on  through  the  city  and  are  camped 
four  miles  beyond  the  town  on  the  York  River 
road. 

To-morrow,  if  you'll  promise  not  to  divulge 
it  to  a  human  soul,  I'll  tell  you  a  great  secret 
No,  my  darling,  I  can't  wait  till  to-morrow. 
I'll  tell  you  right  now.  So  listen  and  cross 
your  heart  that  you  won't  tell.  I  love  you — ■ 
love  you — love  you,  and  oh,  little  one,  I  want 
to  see  you  so!     That  is  the  secret. 

Lovingly  and  forever, 

Your  Soldiek. 

Ghambersburg,  'June  2J,  1863. 
87 


XVII 

During  a  Halt  in  the  Long  March 

1WISH,  my  darling,  you  could  see  this 
wonderfully  rich  and  prosperous  country, 
abounding  in  plenty,  with  its  great,  strong, 
vigorous  horses  and  oxen,  its  cows  and  crops 
and  verdantly  thriving  vegetation — none  of 
the  ravages  of  war,  no  signs  of  devastation — 
all  in  woeful  contrast  to  the  land  where  we  lay 
dreaming.  All  the  time  I  break  the  law 
"Thou  shalt  not  covet,"  for  every  fine  horse 
or  cow  I  see  I  want  for  my  darling,  and  all 
the  pretty  things  I  see  besides.  Never  mind, 
she  shall  have  everything  some  day,  and  I 
shall  have  the  universe  and  heaven's  choicest 
gift  when  she  is  my  wife — all  my  very  own. 
At  Chambersburg,  Marse  Robert  preached 
us  a  sermon,  first  instructing  us  in  the  meaning 
of  "meum"  and  "teum,"  and  then  taking  as  his 
text,  "Vengeance  is  Mine,  saith  the  Lord."  I 
observed  that  the  mourners'  bench  was  not 
overcrowded    with    seekers    for    conversion. 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

The  poor  fellows  were  thinking  of  their  own 
despoiled  homes,  looted  of  everything,  and 
were  not  wildly  enthusiastic  as  they  acquiesced 
obediently  to  our  beloved  Commander's  or- 
der. The  Yanks  have  taken  into  the  moun- 
tains and  across  the  Susquehanna  all  the  sup- 
plies they  could,  and  we  pay  liberally  for 
those  which  we  are  compelled  to  take,  pay- 
ing for  them  in  money  which  is  paid  to  us, 
our  own  Confederate  script.  Some  of  us 
have  a  few  pieces  of  gold  with  which  to  pur- 
chase some  keepsake  or  token  for  the  dear 
ones  at  home.  Alas,  my  little  one,  how  many 
of  us  will  be  blessed  with  the  giving  of  them? 
God  in  His  mercy  be  our  Commander-in- 
Chief! 

We  have  not  a  wide  field  for  selection  here, 
as  we  once  had  at  Price's  dry  goods  store  or 
John  Tyler's  jewelry  establishment  in  Rich- 
mond; but  it  seems  quite  magnificent  to  us 
now,  since  the  Richmond  counters  are  so  bare 
as  to  offer  not  even  a  wedding  ring  or  a  yard 

of  calico.     We  are  guying  General who, 

after   long   and    grave    deliberation,    bought 
three  hoop  skirts   as  a  present  for  his  be- 
trothed. 
89 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

All  that  makes  life  dear  is  the  thought  of 
seeing  you  and  being  with  you.  And  oh,  what 
an  eternity  it  seems  since  I  said  good  night! 
Oh,  my  darling,  love  me,  pray  for  me,  hold 
me  in  your  thoughts,  keep  me  in  your  heart! 

Our  whole  army  is  now  in  Pennsylvania, 
north  of  the  river.  There  were  rumors  that 
Richmond  was  threatened  from  all  sides — 
Dix  from  Old  Point,  Getty  from  Hanover, 
Keyes  from  Bottom's  Bridge,  and  so  on — and 
that  we  might  be  recalled.  It  turned  out  to 
be  Munchausen,  and  we  are  still  to  march  for- 
ward. Every  tramp — tramp — tramp  is  a 
thought — thought — thought  of  my  darling, 
every  halt  a  blessing  invoked,  every  command 
a  loving  caress;  and  the  thought  of  you  and 
prayer  for  you  make  me  strong,  make  me  bet- 
ter, give  me  courage,  give  me  faith.  Now, 
my  dearest,  let  my  soul  speak  to  yours.  Lis- 
ten— listen — listen!  You  hear — I  am  an- 
swered. 

Forever  and  ever, 

Your  Soldier. 

In  Camp,  June  29,  1863. 


90 


XVIII 

Written   While  He  Awaited  the  Order  to 
Charge  at  Gettysburg 

CAN  my  prettice  do  patchwork?  If  she 
can,  she  must  piece  together  these  pen- 
ciled scraps  of  soiled  paper  and  make  out  of 
them,  not  a  log-cabin  quilt,  but  a  wren's  nest, 
cement  it  with  love  and  fill  it  with  blue  and 
golden  and  speckled  eggs  of  faith  and  hope, 
to  hatch  out  greater  love  yet  for  us. 

Well,  the  long,  wearying  march  from 
Chambersburg,  through  dust  and  heat  beyond 
compare,  brought  us  here  yesterday  (a  few 
miles  from  Gettysburg).  Though  my  poor 
men  were  almost  exhausted  by  the  march  in 
the  intense  heat,  I  felt  that  the  exigencies  de- 
manded my  assuring  Marse  Robert  that  we 
had  arrived  and  that,  with  a  few  hours'  rest, 
my  men  would  be  equal  to  anything  he  might 
require  of  them.  I  sent  Walter  with  my  mes- 
sage and  rode  on  myself  to  Little  Round  Top 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

to  see  Old  Peter,  who,  I  tell  you,  dearest,  was 
mighty  glad  to  see  me.  And  now,  just  think 
of  it,  though  the  old  war-horse  was  watching 
A.  P.  Hill's  attack  upon  the  center  and  Hood 
and  McLaws  of  his  own  corps,  who  had 
struck  Sickles,  he  turned  and  before  referring 
to  the  fighting  or  asking  about  the  march  in- 
quired after  you,  my  darling!  While  we 
were  watching  the  fight  Walter  came  back 
with  Marse  Robert's  reply  to  my  message, 
which  was  in  part:  "Tell  Pickett  I'm  glad 
that  he  has  come,  that  I  can  always  depend 
upon  him  and  his  men,  but  that  I  shall  not 
want  him  this  evening." 

We  have  been  on  the  qui  vive,  sweetheart, 
since  midnight  and  as  early  as  three  o'clock 
were  on  the  march.  About  half  past  three, 
Gary's  pistol  signaled  the  Yankees'  attack 
upon  Gulp's  Hill,  and  with  its  echo  a  wail  of 
regret  went  up  from  my  very  soul  that  the 
other  two  brigades  of  my  old  division  had 
been  left  behind.  Oh,  God,  if  only  I  had 
them — a  surety  for  the  honor  of  Virginia,  for 
I  can  depend  upon  them,  little  one.  They 
know  your  Soldier  and  would  follow  him  into 

92 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

the  very  jaws   of   death — and  he  will  need 
them,  right  here,  too,  before  he'a  through. 

At  early  dawn,  darkened  by  the  threaten- 
ing rain,  Armistead,  Garnett,  Kemper  and 
your  Soldier  held  a  heart-to-heart  powwow. 

All  three  sent  regards  to  you,  and  Old 
Lewis  pulled  a  ring  from  his  little  ringer  and 
making  me  take  it,  said,  "Give  this  little  token, 
George,  please,  to  her  of  the  sunset  eyes,  with 
my  love,  and  tell  her  the  'old  man'  says  since 
he  could  not  be  the  lucky  dog  he's  mighty 
glad  that  you  are." 

Dear  old  Lewis — dear  old  "Lo,"  as  Ma- 
gruder  always  called  him,  being  short  for 
Lothario.  Well,  my  Sally,  I'll  keep  the  ring 
for  you,  and  some  day  I'll  take  it  to  John 
Tyler  and  have  it  made  into  a  breastpin  and 
set  around  with  rubies  and  diamonds  and 
emeralds.  You  will  be  the  pearl,  the  other 
jewel.     Dear  old  Lewis! 

Just  as  we  three  separated  to  go  our  differ- 
ent ways  after  silently  clasping  hands,  our 
fears  and  prayers  voiced  in  the  "Good  luck, 
93 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

old  man,"  a  summons  came  from  Old  Peter, 
and  I  immediately  rode  to  the  top  of  the  ridge 
where  he  and  Marse  Robert  were  making  a 
reconnaissance  of  Meade's  position.  "Great 
God!"  said  Old  Peter  as  I  came  up.  "Look, 
General  Lee,  at  the  insurmountable  difficul- 
ties between  our  line  and  that  of  the  Yankees 
— the  steep  hills,  the  tiers  of  artillery,  the 
fences,  the  heavy  skirmish  line — and  then 
we'll  have  to  fight  our  infantry  against  their 
batteries.  Look  at  the  ground  we'll  have  to 
charge  over,  nearly  a  mile  of  that  open  ground 
there  under  the  rain  of  their  canister  and 
shrapnel." 

"The  enemy  is  there,  General  Longstreet, 
and  I  am  going  to  strike  him,"  said  Marse 
Robert  in  his  firm,  quiet,  determined  voice. 

About  8  o'clock  I  rode  with  them  along 
our  line  of  prostrate  infantry.  They  had 
been  told  to  lie  down  to  prevent  attracting 
attention,  and  though  they  had  been  forbid- 
den to  cheer  they  voluntarily  arose  and  lifted 
in  reverential  adoration  their  caps  to  our  be- 
loved commander  as  we  rode  slowly  along. 

94 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Oh,  the  responsibility  for  the  lives  of  such 
men  as  these!  Well,  my  darling,  their  fate 
and  that  of  our  beloved  Southland  will  be 
settled  ere  your  glorious  brown  eyes  rest  on 
these  scraps  of  penciled  paper — your  Soldier's 
last  letter,  perhaps. 

Our  line  of  battle  faces  Cemetery  Ridge. 
Our  detachments  have  been  thrown  forward 
to  support  our  artillery  which  stretches  over 
a  mile  along  the  crests  of  Oak  Ridge  and 
Seminary  Ridge.  The  men  are  lying  in  the 
rear,  my  darling,  and  the  hot  July  sun  pours 
its  scorching  rays  almost  vertically  down  upon 
them.  The  suffering  and  waiting  are  almost 
unbearable. 

Well,  my  sweetheart,  at  one  o'clock  the  aw- 
ful silence  was  broken  by  a  cannon-shot  and 
then  another,  and  then  more  than  a  hundred 
guns  shook  the  hills  from  crest  to  base,  an- 
swered by  more  than  another  hundred — the 
whole  world  a  blazing  volcano,  the  whole  of 
heaven  a  thunderbolt — then  darkness  and  ab- 
solute silence — then  the  grim  and  gruesome, 
low-spoken  commands — then  the  forming  of 

95 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

the  attacking  columns.  My  brave  Virginians 
are  to  attack  in  front.  Oh,  may  God  in  mercy 
help  me  as  He  never  helped  before! 

I  have  ridden  up  to  report  to  Old  Peter. 
I  shall  give  him  this  letter  to  mail  to  you  and 
a  package  to  give  you  if —  Oh,  my  darling, 
do  you  feel  the  love  of  my  heart,  the  prayer, 
as  I  write  that  fatal  word? 

Now,  I  go;  but  remember  always  that  I 
love  you  with  all  my  heart  and  soul,  with  every 
fiber  of  my  being;  that  now  and  forever  I  am 
yours — yours,  my  beloved.  It  is  almost  three 
o'clock.  My  soul  reaches  out  to  yours — my 
prayers.  I'll  keep  up  a  skookum  tumtum  for 
Virginia  and  for  you,  my  darling. 

Your  Soldier. 

Gettysburg,  July  3,  1863. 


96 


XIX 

Relating  Certain  Incidents  of  the  Great 
Battle 

MY  letter  of  yesterday,  my  darling,  writ- 
ten before  the  battle,  was  full  of  hope 
and  cheer;  even  though  it  told  you  of  the  long 
hours  of  waiting  from  four  in  the  morning, 
when  Gary's  pistol  rang  out  from  the  Federal 
lines  signaling  the  attack  upon  Culp's  Hill, 
to  the  solemn  eight-o'clock  review  of  my  men, 
who  rose  and  stood  silently  lifting  their  hats 
in  loving  reverence  as  Marse  Robert,  Old 
Peter  and  your  own  Soldier  reviewed  them — 
on  then  to  the  deadly  stillness  of  the  five  hours 
following,  when  the  men  lay  in  the  tall  grass 
in  the  rear  of  the  artillery  line,  the  July  sun 
pouring  its  scorching  rays  almost  vertically 
down  upon  them,  till  one  o'clock  when  the 
awful  silence  of  the  vast  battlefield  was 
broken  by  a  cannon-shot  which  opened  the 
greatest  artillery  duel  of  the  world.  The 
97 


THE    HEART   OF    A    SOLDIER 

firing  lasted  two  hours.  When  it  ceased  we 
took  advantage  of  the  blackened  field  and  in 
the  glowering  darkness  formed  our  attacking 
column  just  before  the  brow  of  Seminary 
Ridge. 

I  closed  my  letter  to  you  a  little  before 
three  o'clock  and  rode  up  to  Old  Peter  for 
orders.  I  found  him  like  a  great  lion  at  bay. 
I  have  never  seen  him  so  grave  and  troubled. 
For  several  minutes  after  I  had  saluted  him 
he  looked  at  me  without  speaking.  Then  in 
an  agonized  voice,  the  reserve  all  gone,  he 
said: 

"Pickett,  I  am  being  crucified  at  the 
thought  of  the  sacrifice  of  life  which  this  at- 
tack will  make.  I  have  instructed  Alexander 
to  watch  the  effect  of  our  fire  upon  the  enemy, 
and  when  it  begins  to  tell  he  must  take  the  re- 
sponsibility and  give  you  your  orders,  for  I 
can't." 

While  he  was  yet  speaking  a  note  was 
brought  to  me  from  Alexander.  After  read- 
ing it  I  handed  it  to  him,  asking  if  I  should 
obey  and  go  forward.  He  looked  at  me  for  a 
moment,  then  held  out  his  hand.  Presently, 
clasping  his  other  hand  over  mine  without 

98 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

speaking  he  bowed  his  head  upon  his  breast. 
I  shall  never  forget  the  look  in  his  face  nor 
the  clasp  of  his  hand  when  I  said: — "Then, 
General,  I  shall  lead  my  Division  on."  I  had 
ridden  only  a  few  paces  when  I  remembered 
your  letter  and  (forgive  me)  thoughtlessly 
scribbled  in  a  corner  of  the  envelope,  "If  Old 
Peter's  nod  means  death  then  good-by  and 
God  bless- you,  little  one,"  turned  back  and 
asked  the  dear  old  chief  if  he  would  be  good 
enough  to  mail  it  for  me.  As  he  took  your  let- 
ter from  me,  my  darling,  I  saw  tears  glisten- 
ing on  his  cheeks  and  beard.  The  stern  old 
war-horse,  God  bless  him,  was  weeping  for  his 
men  and,  I  know,  praying  too  that  this  cup 
might  pass  from  them.  I  obeyed  the  silent  as- 
sent of  his  bowed  head,  an  assent  given  against 
his  own  convictions, — given  in  anguish  and 
with  reluctance. 

My  brave  boys  were  full  of  hope  and  con- 
fident of  victory  as  I  led  them  forth,  forming 
them  in  column  of  attack,  and  though  officers 
and  men  alike  knew  what  was  before  them, — 
knew  the  odds  against  them, — they  eagerly  of- 
fered up  their  lives  on  the  altar  of  duty,  hav- 
ing absolute  faith  in  their  ultimate  success. 
99 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Over  on  Cemetery  Ridge  the  Federals  beheld 
a  scene  never  before  witnessed  on  this  conti- 
nent,— a  scene  which  has  never  previously  been 
enacted  and  can  never  take  place  again — an 
army  forming  in  line  of  battle  in  full  view, 
under  their  very  eyes — charging  across  a 
space  nearly  a  mile  in  length  over  fields  of 
waving  grain  and  anon  of  stubble  and  then  a 
smooth  expanse — moving  with  the  steadiness 
of  a  dress  parade,  the  pride  and  glory  soon  to 
be  crushed  by  an  overwhelming  heartbreak.1 

Well,  it  is  all  over  now.  The  battle  is  lost, 
and  many  of  us  are  prisoners,  many  are  dead, 
many  wounded,  bleeding  and  dying.  Your 
Soldier  lives  and  mourns  and  but  for  you,  my 
darling,  he  would  rather,  a  million  times 
rather,  be  back  there  with  his  dead,  to  sleep 
for  all  time  in  an  unknown  grave. 

Your  sorrowing 

Soldier. 

In  Camp,  July  4,  1863. 

1  Here  follows  a  detailed  account  of  the  battle,  which  is  omitted 
from  this  volume  for  the  reasons  given  in  the  note  on  page  211. 


IOO 


XX 

Written  in  Sorrow  and  Defeat,  Three  Days 
After  the  Struggle 

ON  the  Fourth — far  from  a  glorious 
Fourth  to  us  or  to  any  with  love  for  his 
fellow-men — I  wrote  you  just  a  line  of  heart- 
break. The  sacrifice  of  life  on  that  blood- 
soaked  field  on  the  fatal  third  was  too  awful 
for  the  heralding  of  victory,  even  for  our  vic- 
torious foe,  who  I  think,  believe  as  we  do,  that 
it  decided  the  fate  of  our  cause.  No  words 
can  picture  the  anguish  of  that  roll-call — the 
breathless  waits  between  the  responses.  The 
"Here"  of  those  who,  by  God's  mercy,  had 
miraculously  escaped  the  awful  rain  of  shot 
and  shell  was  a  sob — a  gasp — a  knell — for  the 
unanswered  name  of  his  comrade.  There  was 
no  tone  of  thankfulness  for  having  been 
spared  to  answer  to  their  names,  but  rather  a 
toll,  and  an  unvoiced  wish  that  they,  too,  had 
been  among  the  missing. 

IOI 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Even  now  I  can  hear  them  cheering  as  I 
gave  the  order,  "Forward!"  I  can  feel  the 
thrill  of  their  joyous  voices  as  they  called  out 
all  along  the  line,  "We'll  follow  you,  Marse 
George.  We'll  follow  you — we'll  follow 
you."  Oh,  how  faithfully  they  kept  their 
word — following  me  on — on — to  their  death, 
and  I,  believing  in  the  promised  support,  led 
them  on — on — on —     Oh,  God! 

I  can't  write  you  a  love-letter  to-day,  my 
Sally,  for  with  my  great  love  for  you  and  my 
gratitude  to  God  for  sparing  my  life  to  devote 
to  you,  comes  the  overpowering  thought  of 
those  whose  lives  were  sacrificed — of  the 
broken-hearted  widows  and  mothers  and 
orphans.  The  moans  of  my  wounded  boys, 
the  sight  of  the  dead,  upturned  faces,  flood  my 
soul  with  grief — and  here  am  I  whom  they 
trusted,  whom  they  followed,  leaving  them  on 
that  field  of  carnage — and  guarding  four 
thousand  prisoners  across  the  river  back  to 
Winchester.  Such  a  duty  for  men  who  a  few 
hours  ago  covered  themselves  with  glory 
eternal ! 

Well,  my  darling,  I  put  the  prisoners  all  on 
their  honor  and  gave  them  equal  liberties  with 

1 02 


THE    HFART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

my  own  soldier  boys.  My  first  command  to 
them  was  to  go  and  enjoy  themselves  the  best 
they  could,  and  they  have  obeyed  my  order. 
To-day  a  Dutchman  and  two  of  his  comrades 
came  up  and  told  me  that  they  were  lost  and 
besought  me  to  help  them  find  their  comrades. 
They  had  been  with  my  men  and  were  sepa- 
rated from  their  own  comrades.  So  I  sent  old 
Floyd  off  on  St.  Paul  to  find  out  where  they 
belonged  and  deliver  them. 

This  is  too  gloomy  and  too  poor  a  letter  for 
so  beautiful  a  sweetheart,  but  it  seems  sacri- 
legious, almost,  to  say  I  love  you,  with  the 
hearts  that  are  stilled  to  love  on  the  field  of 
battle. 

Your  Soldier. 

Headquarters,  July  6,  i86j. 


103 


XXI 

Containing  Further  Details  of  the  Battle 

I  AM  enclosing  you  a  copy  of  General  Lee's 
official  letter  of  July  9th,  in  answer  to 
mine  of  the  8th,  the  same  day  on  which  I 
wrote  you  (who  deserved  something  brighter) 
that  ghostly,  woeful  letter. 

General  Lee's  letter  has  been  published  to 
the  division  in  general  orders  and  received 
with  appreciative  satisfaction.  The  soldiers, 
one  and  all,  love  and  honor  Lee,  and  his  sym- 
pathy and  praise  are  always  very  dear  to  them. 
Just  after  the  order  was  published  I  heard  one 
of  the  men,  rather  rough  and  uncouth  and  not, 
as  are  most  of  the  men,  to  the  manner  born, 
say,  as  he  wiped  away  the  tears  with  the  back 
of  his  hand,  "Dag-gone  him,  dag-gone  him, 
dag-gone  his  old  soul,  I'm  blamed  ef  I 
wouldn't  be  dag-gone  willin'  to  go  right 
through  it  all  and  be  killed  again  with  them 
others  to  hear  Marse  Robert,  dag-gone  him, 

104 


THE    HEART   OF    A    SOLDIER 

say  over  again  as  how  he  grieved  bout'n  we- 
all's  losses  and  honored  us  for  we-all's  bravery  I 
Darned  ef  I  wouldn't."  Isn't  that  reverential 
adoration,  my  darling,  to  be  willing  to  be 
"killed  again"  for  a  word  of  praise? 

It  seems  selfish  and  inhuman  to  speak  of 
love — haunted  as  I  am  with  the  unnecessary 
sacrifice  of  the  lives  of  so  many  of  my  brave 
boys.  I  can't  think  of  anything  but  the  deso- 
late homes  in  Virginia  and  the  unknown  dead 
in  Pennsylvania.  At  the  beginning  of  the 
fight  I  was  so  sanguine,  so  sure  of  success! 
Early  in  the  morning  I  had  been  assured  by 
Alexander  that  General  Lee  had  ordered  that 
every  brigade  in  his  command  was  to  charge 
Cemetery  Hill;  so  I  had  no  fear  of  not  being 
supported.  Alexander  also  assured  me  of  the 
support  of  his  artillery  which  would  move 
ahead  of  my  division  in  the  advance.  He  told 
me  that  he  had  borrowed  seven  twelve-pound 
howitzers  from  Pendleton,  Lee's  Chief  of  Ar- 
tillery, which  he  had  put  in  reserve  to  ac- 
company me. 

In  the  morning  I  rode  with  him  while  he, 
by  Longstreet's  orders,  selected  the  salient 
105 


/ 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

angle  of  the  wood  in  which  my  line  was 
formed,  which  line  was  just  on  the  left  of  his 
seventy-five  guns.  At  about  a  quarter  to 
three  o'clock,  when  his  written  order  to  make 
the  charge  was  handed  to  me,  and  dear  Old 
Peter  after  reading  it  in  sorrow  and  fear  re- 
luctantly bowed  his  head  in  assent,  I  obeyed, 
leading  my  three  brigades  straight  on  the 
enemy's  front.  You  never  saw  anything  like 
it.  They  moved  across  that  field  of  death  as 
a  battalion  marches  forward  in  line  of  battle 
upon  drill,  each  commander  in  front  of  his 
command  leading  and  cheering  on  his  men. 
Two  lines  of  the  enemy's  infantry  were  driven 
back;  two  lines  of  guns  were  taken — and  no 
support  came.  Pendleton,  without  Alexan- 
der's knowledge,  had  sent  four  of  the  guns 
which  he  had  loaned  him  to  some  other  part 
of  the  field,  and  the  other  three  guns  could 
not  be  found.  The  two  brigades  which  were 
to  have  followed  me  had,  poor  fellows,  been 
seriously  engaged  in  the  fights  of  the  two 
previous  days.  Both  of  their  commanding  of- 
ficers had  been  killed,  and  while  they  had 
been  replaced  by  gallant,  competent  officers, 

iod 


•{ftmU;o  pwJ$v< 


Two  lines  of  their  infantry 
were  driven  back;  two  lines  of 
guns  were  taken — and  no  sup- 
port came. — Page  106. 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

these  new  leaders  were  unknown  to  the  men. 

Ah,  if  I  had  only  had  my  other  two  brigades 
a  different  story  would  have  been  flashed  to 
the  world.  It  was  too  late  to  retreat,  and  to 
go  on  was  death  or  capture.  Poor  old  Dick 
Garnett  did  not  dismount,  as  did  the  others 
of  us,  and  he  was  killed  instantly,  falling  from 
his  horse.  Kemper,  desperately  wounded, 
was  brought  from  the  field  and  subsequently, 
taken  prisoner.  Dear  old  Lewis  Armistead, 
God  bless  him,  was  mortally  wounded  at  the 
head  of  his  command  after  planting  the  flag 
of  Virginia  within  the  enemy's  lines.  Seven 
of  my  colonels  were  killed,  and  one  was  mor- 
tally wounded.  Nine  of  my  lieutenant 
colonels  were  wounded,  and  three  lieutenant 
colonels  were  killed.  Only  one  field  officer 
of  my  whole  command,  Colonel  Cabell,  was 
unhurt,  and  the  loss  of  my  company  officers 
was  in  proportion. 

I  wonder,  my  dear,  if  in  the  light  of  the 
Great  Eternity  we  shall  any  of  us  feel  this  was 
for  the  best  and  shall  have  learned  to  say, 
"Thy  will  be  done." 

No  castles  to-day,  sweetheart.  No,  the 
107 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

bricks  of  happiness  and  the  mortar  of  love 
must  lie  untouched  in  this  lowering  gloom. 
Pray,  dear,  for  the  sorrowing  ones. 

Your  Soldier. 

Headquarters,  July  12,  1863. 

Headquarters,  A.  N.  Va., 
July  9th,  1863. 
General: 

Your  letter  of  the  8th  has  been  received.  It  was  with 
reluctance  that  I  imposed  upon  your  gallant  division  the 
duty  of  carrying  prisoners  to  Staunton.  I  regretted  to 
assign  them  to  such  a  service,  as  well  as  to  separate  them 
from  the  Army,  though  temporarily,  with  which  they 
have  been  so  long  and  efficiently  associated.  Though 
small  in  numbers,  their  worth  is  not  diminished,  and  I 
had  supposed  that  the  division  itself  would  be  loth  to 
part  from  its  comrades,  at  a  time  when  the  presence  of 
every  man  is  so  essential. 

No  one  grieves  more  than  I  do  at  the  loss  suffered  by 
your  noble  division  in  the  recent  conflict,  or  honors  it 
more  for  its  bravery  and  gallantry.  It  will  afford  me 
hereafter  satisfaction,  when  an  opportunity  occurs,  to  do 
all  in  my  power  to  recruit  its  diminished  ranks,  and  to 
recognize  it  in  the  most  efficient  manner. 

Very  respectfully,  your  obedient  servant, 

R.  E.  Lee,  General. 

Major  Gen.  G.  E.  Pickett,  commanding, 

Forwarded   through   Lieut.   Gen.   Longstreet. 
C.  Marshall,  Major  and  A.  D.  C. 

108 


XXII 

On  the  Way  to  Richmond — Guarding 
Prisoners 

IT  would  be  impossible,  my  darling,  to  de- 
scribe to  you  even  the  half  of  the  horrors 
and  hardships  of  these  last  days,  from  the  first 
night's  long  march  to  the  present  hour;  not 
only  for  ourselves  but  for  the  prisoners  whom, 
with  shattered  hopes  and  heartbreak  we,  the 
little  remnant  of  my  division,  have  been  as- 
signed to  guard.  "One  prisoner  is  too  many 
for  us,  who  haven't  a  crust  to  go  around 
among  ourselves,"  as  Old  Jack  said. 

Oh,  the  pity  of  it,  guarding  these  prisoners 
through  their  own  country,  depleted  and  suf- 
fering mentally  and  physically  as  we  are,  and 
being  forced  to  march  forward  with  a  speed 
beyond  their  own  and  our  endurance.  It  may 
be  some  consolation  to  both  that  we  suffer 
alike  from  fatigue,  hunger,  exhaustion  and 
wet,  for  the  excessive  rains  which  set  in  on  the 
fourth  have  continued  unabated. 
109 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

The  long  wagon-trains,  the  artillery,  the  as- 
sortment of  vehicles  of  all  kinds  impressed 
from  the  farmers  and  loaded  to  their  utmost 
capacity  with  our  wounded  and,  anon,  room 
made  for  the  crowding  in  of  yet  another,  fall- 
ing from  illness  or  exhaustion  all  along  our 
way,  have  added  their  quota  to  the  discom- 
forts of  the  march.  Our  commissariat,  too, 
has  been  as  wretched  here  in  this  land  of 
plenty  as  it  was  in  the  barren,  war-ridden  land 
we  left  behind.  Our  banquets,  we,  the  guard 
of  honor,  and  our  guests,  the  prisoners,  have 
shared  like-and-like,  and  none  was  ever  more 
enjoyed  by  either  than  the  flour  made  into 
paste  and  baked  on  the  stones  in  front  of  the 
fire  and  the  good  Pennsylvania  beef  roasted 
on  the  end  of  a  stick.  By  the  way,  my  Sally, 
when  you  are  my  little  housekeeper  you  must 
remember  that  this  stick-end  roasting  is  a 
mighty  toothsome  recipe  for  cooking  beef. 

The  prisoners  have  been  far  more  cheerful 
than  we  have  been,  for  they  have  not  only  had 
strong  hope  of  being  retaken  by  their  own 
arms  within  a  few  days  but  their  army  has 
gained  a  great  victory,  and  though  dearly 
bought,  it  has,  I  fear,  decided  the  fate  of  our 

no 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

new-born  nation.  The  cannonading  on  the 
second  morning,  the  shells  from  which  we 
could  clearly  see  bursting  somewhere  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  Monterey  House  and  which  we 
learned  were  from  Kilpatrick's  artillery,  en- 
deavoring to  cut  off  our  trains  and  prevent 
our  retreat,  gave  the  prisoners  double  assur- 
ance of  release.  Their  hope  of  rescue  being 
deferred  at  Monterey  Springs,  I  instructed  my 
Inspector-General  to  parole  the  officers  and 
give  them  safeguard  to  return,  binding  them 
to  render  themselves  prisoners  of  war  at  Rich- 
mond if  they  were  not  duly  recognized  by  their 
government.  Unfortunately,  I  was  not  per- 
mitted to  release  them  at  this  point  and  they 
were  required  to  march  with  the  rest  of  the 
prisoners. 

A  Colonel  of  a  Maine  regiment,  Colonel 
Tilden,  a  splendid,  gallant  fellow,  so  appre- 
ciative, too,  of  the  very  few  small  courtesies 
which  it  has  been  possible  to  show  him,  asked 
that  I  cancel  their  paroles,  the  main  object  of 
which  had  been  to  avoid  the  terrors  of  the 
march,  which  I,  in  honor,  did  of  course. 

Late  in  the  evening  after  another  trying 
day's  march  we  passed  Waynesboro  and,  with 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

a  rest  of  only  an  hour  or  so,  marched  all 
night.  At  nine  o'clock  the  following  morn- 
ing we  reached  Hagerstown  but  hurried  on 
through  to  Williamsport.  All  along  the  road 
from  Hagerstown  to  Williamsport  were  grue- 
some evidences  of  Kilpatrick's  dash  into 
Hagerstown — here  a  dead  cavalryman,  there 
a  broken  caisson,  a  dead  horse.  I  ought  not 
to  let  your  beautiful  eyes  see  through  mine  all 
these  horrors,  but  some  day,  my  darling,  some 
day  we'll  strew  roses  and  violets  and  lilies 
over  them  all,  even  over  the  memories  of 
them.  We'll  listen  to  the  resurrection  that 
hope  and  faith  and  love  voice  in  all  the  songs 
of  nature.  It  will  not  be  long,  darling,  for 
to-day  the  official  news  of  the  surrender  of 
Vicksburg  reached  us.  The  tidings  brought 
cheers  from  the  prisoners  and  increased  the 
sullen  gloom  of  their  guard. 

I  am  directed  to  turn  the  prisoners  over  to 
General  Imboden's  command,  who  is  to  es- 
cort them  to  Staunton.  Their  final  destina- 
tion will,  I  suppose,  be  the  old  nine-room 
brick  warehouse  on  Carey  Street  in  Rich- 
mond, "Libby  &  Sons — Ship  Chandlers  and 
Grocers" — a  sign  which  I  remember  as  a  boy 

112 


THE    HEART   OF    A    SOLDIER 

and  associate  with  "Cat"  and  "Truant"  and 
other  boyish  games.  Always  I  shall  like  to 
remember  it  as  a  place  to  play,  and  not  think 
of  it  as  a  living  tomb.  There  will  not,  I  fear, 
be  many  of  my  fellow-sufferers  of  the  last  few 
days  who  enter  these  awesome  walls  who  will 
ever  come  forth  alive. 

The  Potomac  was  so  swollen  by  the  rains 
which  began  on  the  fourth  and  still  continue, 
that  it  was  impossible  to  cross  it  at  any  of  the 
neighboring  fords.  A  rope  ferry,  the  only 
means  of  crossing,  made  it  slow  and  tedious, 
and  every  minute's  delay,  my  darling,  seems 
centuries  when  I  am  on  my  way  to  you — to 
you. 

Jackerie  has  waited  so  long  for  my  post- 
script that  he  has  gone  to  sleep  and  I  have 
now  not  time  to  write  it,  but  you  will  know 
that  the  most  important  thing  is  in  the  P.  S. 
and  this  is  love, — the  love  of 

Your  adoring 

Soldier. 

On  the  March,  July  12,  1863. 


113 


PART      THREE 


Wedding  Bells  that 
Rang  in  the  Wilderness 


us 


JJ7ITH  the  return  of  the  army  to  Vir- 
Vv  ginia,  after  the  tragic  defeat  at 
Gettysburg,  began  the  slow  ebb  of  the 
tide  that  had  carried  the  hopes  of  the 
Confederacy  so  high.  It  was  in  this  crisis 
when  he  was  back  in  his  war-wasted 
state,  fighting  despondency  and  needing, 
as  never  before,  the  love  and  devotion  of 
a  wife  that  General  Pickett  determined  to 
wait  no  longer  but  to  marry  his  sweet- 
heart at  once.  As  he  could  not  go  to  her 
she  crossed  the  enemy's  lines  and  joined 
him  at  Petersburg,  where  they  were  made 
one. 

Soon  after  their  marriage  came  the  in- 
evitable orders  to  march  and  the  General 
and  his  bride  were  separated  for  weeks 
at  a  time.  But  his  letters  brought  to  her 
constant  cheer  and  the  promise,  oft  re- 
peated, to  come  back  to  her  in  spite  of 
the  dangers  besetting  him.  That  he  did 
so,  was  due  certainly  to  some  kind  for- 
tune that  guarded  him,  since  the  deeds  of 
daring  which  he  performed  at  the  head 
of  his  division  became  a  tradition  in  the 
Army. 


XXIII 
In  Which  the  General  Issues  An  Order 

OLD  Peter  is  to  go  to  Tennessee  to  reen- 
force  Bragg.  He  has  placed  his  plans 
before  the  Secretary  of  War. 

Now,  my  darling,  I  have  just  had  a  long 
powwow  with  him  (Old  Peter)  who,  "old 
war-horse"  as  he  is,  has  been  in  love  himself, 
is  still  in  love,  will  always  be  in  love,  and 
knows  of  our  love — of  our  plighted  troth — 
and  knowing  it,  tells  me  it  is  his  purpose  to 
take  me  with  him  on  this  proposed  expedi- 
tion. 

Now,  my  Sally,  your  Soldier  is  a  soldier, 
and  never,  even  to  himself,  questions  an  order. 
"His  not  to  reason  why."  Darling,  do  you 
know  what  this  means?  Why,  my  little  one, 
it  means  that  you  haven't  one  moment's  res- 
pite. It  means  that  you  are  to  be  Mrs.  Gen- 
eral George  Pickett,  my  precious  wife,  right 
away.  It  means  that  you  are  to  fulfill  your 
117 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

promise  to  "come  to  me  at  a  moment's  notice." 
Yours,  too,  now,  "not  to  reason  why,"  but  to 
obey  and  come  at  once.  We  cannot  brook 
any  delay,  my  darling;  so  pack  up  your  knap- 
sack— never  mind  the  rations  and  the  ammu- 
nition, but  come.  My  Aunt  Olivia,  with 
Uncle  Andrew,  one  of  my  staff  and  one  of  my 
couriers  will  meet  you  and  your  dear  parents 
on  this  side  of  the  Black  Water  and  will  escort 
you  to  Petersburg,  where  I  shall  be  waiting 
at  the  train  to  meet  you.  I  shall  see  you  all 
to  the  hotel,  where  you  will  wait  while  your 
father,  Bright  and  I  get  the  license  and  make 
other  necessary  arrangements  for  our  imme- 
diate marriage,  which  I  have  planned  to  take 
place  sine  die  at  St.  Paul's  Church.  Our 
old  friend,  Doctor  Piatt,  will  pronounce 
the  words  that  make  us  one  in  the  sight  of  the 
world.  From  the  church,  we  will  go  to  the 
depot,  where  a  special  train,  having  been  ar- 
ranged for  us  by  our  friend,  Mr.  Reuben 
Raglan,  God  bless  him,  will  take  us  over  to 
Richmond,  where  my  little  sister  is  waiting 
longingly  to  love  and  welcome  my  wife — her 
new  sister. 

My  darling  will  realize  how  impossible  it 

118 


THE    HEART   OF    A    SOLDIER 

is  for  her  Soldier  to  consult  with  her  and 
will  forgive  his  bungling  and  awkwardness. 
Never  mind,  after  this  she  shall  do  all  the 
planning.  Oh,  what  a  heaven  on  earth  is  be- 
fore us — if  only  this  cruel  war  were  over!  A 
Dios.  Forgive  this  business  letter.  Courier 
awaits.     You  will  come;  I  have  no  fear. 

Forever  your 

Soldier. 

Headquarters,  Sept.  13,  1863. 


119 


XXIV 

Written  After  Their  Marriage,  on  an  Expe- 
dition Into  North  Carolina 

IT  seems  an  age,  my  darling,  since  we  rode 
away,  leaving  you  and  Mrs.  Ransom x 
standing  in  that  wonderful  grove  of  maiden 
trees.  I  veil  the  annoying,  disappointing 
scenes  since  then  and  see  again  the  beautiful 
picture  of  my  own  bride,  clothed  in  white,  in 
the  greenery  with  the  "grandfather  squirrels" 
playing  all  around  her,  climbing  over  her  and 
eating  from  her  dainty,  graceful  hands. 
"Mine — mine — all  my  own!"  I  said,  invoking 
our  Father's  care  of  you.  Oh,  my  love,  all 
my  happiness  is  in  your  hands,  and  as  you  love 
me,  guard  your  precious  self  from  all  harm. 
I  have  you  on  my  heart  all  the  day. 

Ransom  sent  on  our  letters  from  Kingston, 
yia  the  Ugr.2     I  hope  they  reached  you  safely. 

1  Wife  of  General  Ransom, 

2  Underground  railway. 

J20 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Old  Floyd3  sent  a  most  mysterious  looking 
package  to  you  and  Mrs.  Ransom,  which  he 
said  you  must  both  thank  St.  Paul  for.  In 
Floyd's  opinion,  St.  Paul  has  as  much  to  an- 
swer for  as  the  great  Apostle  for  whom  he  is 
named.  Certainly  in  appearance  he  is  as  in- 
significant looking  as  a  horse  as  St.  Paul  has 
been  described  as  a  man,  and  while  he  has  not 
had  one,  much  less  five,  shipwrecks,  he  has 
had  all  manner  of  hairbreadth  escapes,  hard- 
ships, indignities  and  a  million  times  more 
stripes,  all  of  which  he  has  borne  with  Chris- 
tian resignation  and  endurance. 

Well,  dearest,  my  name  is  George  and  my 
patience  and  temper  accord  with  the  name. 
Our  well-formed  plans  for  the  capture  of 
Newbern  miscarried.  Hoke's,  Clingman's  and 
Corse's  Brigades  and  Reid's  Artillery  under 
my  command  were  to  make  a  feint — to 
threaten  on  the  south  side  of  the  Neuse  River. 
Dearing's  Cavalry  and  three  regiments  of  in- 
fantry under  Dearing  were  to  make  a  demon- 
stration on  the  north  side  of  the  Neuse.  Ran- 
som, Barton,  and  Terry  under  Barton  were  to 
make  the  real  attack,  while  we  created  a  diver- 

3  Headquarters  Sutler. 
121 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

sion  and  drew  off  the  enemy.  Simultaneously 
with  our  movements  Colonel  R.  Taylor  Wood 
was  to  take  a  naval  force  in  small  boats,  make 
a  night  excursion  down  the  Neuse  and  attack 
the  gunboats.  The  soldiers  were  all  jubilant, 
buoyant  and  hopeful.  Everything  was  propi- 
tious ;  victory  seemed  sure.  General  Dearing's 
feint  was  successful.  Hoke  and  Corse  and 
Clingman  crossed  over,  taking  all  the  defenses 
and  outworks  in  front.  Wood's  attack  was  a 
complete  surprise,  capturing  a  gunboat  right 
under  the  guns  of  the  fort;  but,  alas,  the  real 
attack  by  Barton  was  not  made.  We  waited 
in  deathlike  suspense.  Hour  after  hour  of 
restless  anxiety  and  impatience  went  by  and 
yet  no  sound  of  a  gun — and  no  message  came 
to  tell  me  why.  The  torture  and  suspense 
were  unbearable.  Newbern  was  ours — ours 
if —  Well — hope  died  out  and  the  dejection 
and  despair  of  the  men  with  their  hopes 
dashed  cannot  be  told. 

As  ever, 

Your  Soldier. 


J22 


XXV 

From  the  Lines  Near  Petersburg,  Va. 

YOUR  Soldier  breathes  easier  this  morn- 
ing, my  darling.  A  great  load  is  lifted. 
Haygood's  brave  South  Carolina  Brigade 
came  in  yesterday,  thank  God,  and  I  stationed 
them  at  Port  Walthall  Junction.  This  will 
keep  the  connection  between  Petersburg  and 
Richmond  open.  Wise's  Brigade  got  in  to- 
day and  was  sent  out  toward  City  Point. 

For  nights  I  have  not  closed  my  eyes. 
How  could  I,  with  a  whole  city  full  of  help- 
less, defenseless  women  and  children  at  the 
mercy  of  an  oncoming  army?  Butler's  whole 
force,  in  transports  protected  by  his  gunboats, 
landed  at  City  Point  and  Bermuda  Hundred, 
and  no  army  here  to  meet  them!  Not  enough 
soldiers,  boys  and  old.  men  all  put  together, 
even  for  picket  duty! 

Come  to  think  of  it,  my  prettice,  you  must 
have  been  up  all  night  to  have  made  up  and 
123 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

sent  out  such  a  basket  of  goodies,  and  baked 
and  buttered  such  a  lot  of  biscuits,  and  made 
so  many  jugs  of  coffee  as  came  this  morning. 
My,  I  tell  you  it  all  tasted  good,  and  the 
coffee — well,  no  Mocha  or  Java  ever  tasted 
half  so  good  as  this  rye-sweet-potato  blend! 
And  think  of  your  thoughtf  ulness  in  wrapping 
blankets  around  the  jugs  to  keep  the  coffee 
hot  Bless  your  thoughtful  heart!  You  are, 
without  doubt,  the  dearest,  most  indefatigable 
little  piece  of  perfection  that  ever  rode  a 
horse  or  buttered  a  biscuit  or  plucked  a  flower 
or  ever  did  anything  else,  as  to  that.  Then 
those  hyacinths  and  geranium  leaves!  Who 
else  in  all  this  nerve-racking,  starving,  perilous 
time  would  have  thought  of  gathering  flowers? 
My  nigger,  Bob,  the  loyal  but  unappreciative 
scamp,  apologetically  took  out  the  baskets, 
which  were  apparently  filled  with  the  yet  dew- 
kissed  fragrant  flowers,  and  said: 

"Miss  Sallie,  Marse  George,  de  Mistis, 
done  en  sont  you  all  dese  yer  endoubled 
hyacinfs.  En  I  axed  her  huccome  she  sont 
'em;  but  she  didn't  say.  So  ef  you  all  don't 
lak  'em  you-all  mus'  'scuse  her  fer  it  en  put 
all  de  blame  'pon  me.     En  anyhow,  Marse 

124 


THE    HEART   OF   A    SOLDIER 

George,  ef  you  cyan't  eat  dese  hyacinfses  ner 
w'ar  'em  ner  shoot  de  Yankees  wid'  em,  dey 
suttinly  does  smell  good  and  dey  sho'  is 
pretty." 

Mrs.  Stratton  and  Mrs.  Johnson  sent  out 
large  hampers,  too,  to  us.  They  came  just 
after  we  had  finished  with  your  baskets,  and 
we  passed  them  on  to  others. 

And  now,  my  darling,  what  on  earth  did  you 
mean  by  saying,  "Never  mind,"  as  you  said 
good-by  and  rode  away  yesterday.  It  troubled 
me  all  night.  I  wanted  to  follow  after  you  and 
ask  you  what  you  meant,  but  couldn't.  I 
would  have  jumped  on  Lucy  and  ridden  in  to 
Petersburg  and  found  out  if  it  had  been  pos- 
sible for  me  to  leave.  I  was  so  troubled  about 
it  that  I  was  almost  tempted  to  come  in  any- 
how. For  the  life  of  me,  little  one,  I  couldn't 
think  of  any  reason  why  you  should  say, 
"Never  mind,"  to  me.  Were  you  aggrieved 
because  your  blundering  old  Soldier  told  you 
there  was  no  necessity  for  your  coming  out  to 
bring  the  dispatches,  any  longer;  that,  thank 
heaven,  the  recruits  and  reinforcements  were 
coming  in  now,  and  that  we  could  manage 
all  right?  I  did  not  mean  to  hurt  you,  dear. 
125 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

I  hoped  you'd  send  a  line  by  Bob  telling  me 
what  you  meant  and  why  you  had  said  it,  but 
when  I  asked  him  if  you  had  written,  he  said: 

"Yes,  Suh,  Marse  George,  'course  de  mistis 
is  done  en  writ  a  letter  er  a  answer  er  sumpin' ; 
but  ef  she  did  done  it,  den  I  mus'  er  forgot 
ter  fotch  it,  bein'  ez  I  wuz  in  sich  a  hurry  ter 
git  yere  in  time  dis  mornin'  wid  de  baskets,  en 
startin'  befo'  daybre'k.  En  den  dis  ebenin'  a 
gettin'  de  basket  en  papers  en  milk  en  things 
ready  in  sich  a  hurry  agin,  I  mus'  er  forgot  de 
letter  agin." 

Now,  please,  my  darling,  send  Bob  back 
right  away  with  a  nice  letter  and  tell  your 
Soldier  that  you  did  not  mean  anything  by  say- 
ing, "Never  mind,"  to  him,  for  he  loves  you 
with  all  his  heart  and  would  not  wound  or  dis- 
appoint or  offend  you  for  anything  in  the 
world. 

Your  Soldier. 

On  the  Lines,  May  7,  1864. 


126 


XXVI 

In  the  Wilderness  Before  Cold  Harbor 

BAIRD  has  just  come  in  from  the  lines, 
my  darling  wife,  and  reports  that  all  is 
well.  I  came  in  about  eleven  and  was  lying 
in  my  tent  all  alone,  thinking  of  you,  and 
while  I  builded  wonderful  castles  I  was  sere- 
nading you  with  the  songs  I  love. 

I  think  I  had  finished  all  the  songs  I  had 
ever  sung  to  you,  and  when  Baird  came  in  my 
thoughts  had  wandered  to  the  Salmon-Illahie 
and  I  was  singing  Anne  Boleyn's  song,  "Oh 
Death,  Rock  Me  Asleep,"  which  was  taught 
me  by  my  friend,  Captain  G.  P.  Hornby,  of 
Her  Majesty's  ship  Tribune,  away  out  in  San 
Juan  Island  on  the  Pacific  Coast  in  1859.  I 
do  not  know  why  I  was  singing  this  song,  ex- 
cept that  it  is  beautiful  and  one  of  the  finest 
and  sweetest  of  melodies.  Both  the  air  and 
words  were  written  by  poor,  unfortunate 
Anne  Boleyn.  I  know  but  one  verse — if 
127 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Hornby  ever  knew  other  verses  he  had  for- 
gotten them — but  the  one  I  know  is  appeal- 
ing.    I  will  write  it  for  you,  if  I  may: 

"Oh,  Death,  rock  me  asleep !     Bring  me  to  quiet  and  rest  ; 
Let  pass  my  weary,  guiltless  life  out  of  my  careful  breast ; 
Toll  on  the  passing  bell,  ring  out  my  doleful  knell; 
Let  thy  sound  my  death  tell.     Death  doth  draw  me, 
Death  doth  draw  me.     There  is  no  remedy." 

Baird  stopped  outside  and  listened  and  then 
came  in,  asking  permission  to  order  Bob  to 
light  the  dips,  and  saying,  "Please,  Sir,  Marse 
George,  when  you  sing  that  song  I  haven't  got 
a  friend  in  the  world.  I'm  lonesome  and  feel 
creeps  and  see  spooks  and,  what's  worse,  I 
don't  know  whether  I  am  Anne  Boleyn  her- 
self, or  am  myself  responsible  for  all  poor 
Anne's  sorrows  and  death." 

So  I  stopped  singing  and  am  writing  to  tell 
you  a  great  secret,  which  is — I  love  you. 
Some  day  when  we  are  happy — so  happy  that 
nothing  could  make  us  any  happier — I'll  sing 
this  song  to  you. 

Last  night  there  was  a  night  attack.  Sev- 
eral of  the  men  were  wounded  slightly;  but 
the  face  of  one — perhaps  seriously  wounded — 

128 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

haunts  me.  He  is  a  boy  with  golden  brown 
curls — somebody's  darling.  To-night,  we 
made  a  capture  of  the  Federal  pickets,  sweep- 
ing their  rifle-pits  for  more  than  a  hundred 
yards  and  taking  a  hundred  and  thirty-six 
prisoners.  You  know  our  lines  are  so  close 
together  in  many  places  that  we,  the  Yankees 
and  my  men,  can  with  voices  raised  carry  on 
a  conversation. 

War  and  its  horrors,  and  yet  I  sing  and 
whistle.  Oh,  my  sweetheart,  if  only  this 
wicked  war  were  over  so  that  we  could  in 
peace  and  quiet  tranquilly  finish  the  book  of 
Love  which  we  have  but  just  begun. 

Adios  now.  I  see  old  Jackerie  in  the  flap 
with  his  pack  and  bag,  his  wonted  grace  and 
patience,  his  dolce-far-niente  eyes  and  soft, 
southern  Italian  voice,  saying,  "No  hulla-non- 
enty."  But  I  must  hurry,  for  he  starts  at  day- 
break and  it  is  now  past  midnight. 

Lovingly  now  and  forever, 

Your  Soldier. 

In  Camp,  June,  1864. 


129 


XXVII 

Recalling  a  Visit  from  "Old  Jack" 

HERE  we  are  still,  my  darling.  My 
division  is  stationed  with  the  rest  of  the 
First  Corps  between  new  and  old  Cold  Har- 
bor. Old  Peter,  having  been  wounded  in  the 
Wilderness,  Anderson  has  been  put  in  com- 
mand of  the  First  Corps.  Grant  has  been  ap- 
pointed Lieutenant  General  and  has  arrived 
at  nearly  the  same  point  in  his  march  down 
the  river  that  McClellan  reached  in  his  up- 
ward progress  in  '62.  Over  a  crimson  road 
both  armies  have  returned  to  Cold  Harbor. 
The  Wilderness,  alas,  is  one  vast  graveyard 
where  sleep  thousands  of  Grant's  soldiers;  but 
Grant,  like  our  Stonewall,  is  "fighting  not  to 
save  lives,  but  country." 

For  the  second  time  now  Cold  Harbor  has 
become  a  battle-ground.  Two  years  ago  it 
furnished  the  field  for  the  battle  of  Gaines's 
Mill  (which  the  Yankees  called  Cold  Har- 
bor) where  your  Soldier  was  wounded.     Does 

130 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

it  seem  to  you  as  long  ago  as  two  years,  my 
darling?  To  me,  it  seems  but  yesterday  that 
I  lay  in  Richmond  at  my  little  sister's  and  you 
came  to  see  me,  blessing  and  cheering  me.  I 
can  feel  now  the  soft  touch  of  your  little  white 
hands,  as  you  gently  stroked  and  soothed  my 
wounded  shoulder  and  swollen  arm  and  hand. 
Do  you  remember  one  afternoon  while  you 
were  reading  from  Moore's  melodies  (not  that 
I  heard  or  took  in  the  meaning  of  a  single  word 
of  them,  for  I  only  heard  the  music  of  your 
wonderful  voice  and  saw  the  long,  dark  lashes 
caressing  the  words  which  those  cupid-shaped 
cherry  lips  were  uttering)  that  our  dear  old 
Stonewall  was  announced?  Of  course  I  knew 
his  calling  was  out  of  the  usual,  and  I  was 
honored  and  gratified  by  his  coming;  but  any 
guest  was  unwelcome  if  I  had  to  share  with 
him  my  darling.  I  remember  that  you 
marked  the  place  you  were  reading  with  your 
dainty,  scented  handkerchief,  which  I  stole 
and  still  have.  You  and  my  sister  were  about 
to  withdraw;  but  both  the  General  and  I 
urged  you  to  remain.  I  shall  always  hold 
sacred  "Old  Jack's"  visit  and  remember  its 
every  detail. 

131 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Do  you  recall  how  indignant  our  maid- 
servant was  at  what  she  supposed  a  reflection 
upon  the  mint-juleps  she  was  serving?  You 
remember  the  uncompromising,  stern  old 
Puritan  declined,  saying,  "Take  that  liquor 
away.  I  never  touch  strong  drink.  I  like  it 
too  well  to  fool  with  it,  and  no  man's  strength 
is  strong  enough  to  touch  that  stuff  with  im- 
punity." You  remember  how,  though  she 
politely  curtsied,  poor  Julie,  humbly  but 
vigorously  defending  her  juleps,  replied, 
"  'Scuse  me,  Marse  Gen'ul  Jackson,  but  dese 
yer  drams  ain't  got  no  impunities  in  'em,  Suh. 
Nor,  Suh.  Braxton  done  en  mek  'em  out'n 
we-all's  ve'y  bes'  old  London  Dock  brandy 
out'n  one  of  we-all's  cobweb  bottles." 

Old  Jackerie  brought  me  your  letter  on  the 
first,  just  after  the  Yankees'  attack  on  Hoke 
and  Kershaw,  breaking  their  outer  lines. 
That  night  Grant  transferred  his  right  to  a 
point  beyond  Cold  Harbor.  On  the  afternoon 
of  the  second  Marse  Robert  ordered  an  assault 
on  Grant's  right;  but  old  Jubal  found  it  in- 
vincible and  went  to  work  erecting  defenses. 
I  believe  it  was  old  Jube  who  gave  Marse 
Robert  the  title  of  "Old-Spades-Lee,"  or  "Old 

132 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Ace  of  Spades,"  because  of  his  incessant  activ- 
ity in  throwing  up  defenses,  trenches,  breast- 
works, etc.  This  morning  Grant  made  an  as- 
sault along  the  entire  six  miles  of  our  line,  and 
our  guns  opened  a  counter  attack,  followed  by 
advance  skirmishes  of  my  division.  The 
whole  Confederate  line  poured  a  stream  of 
fire,  and  thousands  of  Grant's  soldiers  have 
gone  to  reenforce  the  army  of  the  dead. 

Oh,  this  is  all  a  weary,  long  mistake.  May 
the  merciful  and  true  God  wield  power  to  end 
it  ere  another  day  passes ! 

Your  Soldier. 

Cold  Harbor,  June  3,  1864, 


133 


XXVIII 

After  General  Lee  Had  Congratulated  His 
Division  for  Gallantry 

OUTSIDE,  my  darling,  the  band  has  been 
playing  the  songs  that  we  love,  and  in- 
side I  have  been  softly  singing  them  all  to 
you,  to  your  spirit  far  away.  Now  they  have 
wound  up  with  " Alice,  Where  Art  Thou?" 
which  might  have  set  me  wondering  if  it  had 
not  been  the  hour  we  each  seek  to  be  alone  that 
we  may  bring  our  souls  in  touch.  So  I  knew 
that  thou  wert  with  me. 

This  morning  Tom  Friend  brought  me  a 
weesome  package  of  tea,  which  he  wishes  sent 
to  you.  "One  of  the  men,"  he  said,  "swapped 
his  tobacco  for  it."  If  the  whole  universe 
were  mine,  I'd  lay  it  at  your  feet,  for  love  has 
builded  in  my  heart  three  altars  for  thy  wor- 
ship— one  to  Faith,  one  to  Hope,  one  to  Serv- 
ice— and  you,  my  Goddess  whom  I  worship, 
must  feed  my  faith,  illumine  my  hope  and 
command  my  service. 

i34 


THE    HEART.OF    A    SOLDIER 

This  morning,  for  reasons  which  you  will 
presently  note,  I  was  thinking  of  our  ever 
memorable  ride  from  Petersburg.  Its  anxie- 
ties and  pleasures,  your  indomitable  pluck  and 
merry  laughter  on  that  day  pass  before  me, 
making  me  shudder  with  fear  or  thrill  with 
happiness.  It  was  on  your  birthday,  you  re- 
member, and  Beauregard  had  been  forced  to 
leave  his  intrenchments  at  early  daylight,  and 
Butler  had  walked  into  them  and  had  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching  the  Richmond  and  Peters- 
burg Railroad  and  was  destroying  the  track 
when  the  advance  guard  of  my  division  ran 
him  off.  I  had  left  you  in  the  rear  and  had 
gone  on  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  advance 
of  my  division  and  was  riding  quietly  along 
with  the  members  of  my  staff  and  General  R. 
H.  Anderson,  who  was  then  commanding  the 
corps.  We  were  some  ten  miles  or  so  from 
Petersburg  when  we  were  ambushed  and  fired 
into  by  a  portion  of  Butler's  troops.  Hun- 
ton's  Brigade  was  followed  up  by  my  other 
brigades,  and  we  drove  the  enemy  back  to- 
ward Bermuda  Hundred,  where  they  were 
stopped  by  my  men  who  retook  the  whole  line. 

This  gallant  and  unexpected  action  so 
*35 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

pleased  Marse  Robert  that  he  yesterday  had 
published  the  inclosed  notice,  which  I  send 
you  that  you  may  be  reminded  of  my  glorious, 
fearless  men  who  yet  survived  that  awful  third 
of  July  where  so  many  of  their  comrades  were 
left  to  sleep.  The  line  of  breastworks  which 
they  took  and  to  which  Marse  Robert  refers  in 
the  notice  inclosed  is  most  important,  as  the 
main  line  of  defense  between  Richmond  and 
Petersburg  and  opposing  any  advance  of  the 
enemy  upon  the  peninsula  of  Bermuda  Hun- 
dred. 

Now  my  darling  sees  why  I  am  thinking  of 
that  1 6th  of  May.  It  was  because  she,  though 
Marse  Robert  doesn't  know  it,  comes  in  for 
a  share  of  his  praise.  I  am  thinking  of  you 
every  minute  and  wish  that  I  could  ride  in,  if 
only  for  an  hour  between  sundown  and  mid- 
night, to  see  you;  but,  to  use  Mr.  Lincoln's 
expressive  words,  Grant  is  so  "infernally 
interruptions"  that  I  am  afraid  to  take  the 
risk. 

Now,  my  strayed  angel  of  the  skies,  don't 
be  disappointed.  I  love  you.  Good  night. 
May  all  blessings  bless  you,  all  sunshine  shine 
for  you,  all  angels  guard  you,  all  that  is  good 

136 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

take  care  of  you  and  all  heaven  help  me  to  be 
worthy  of  you. 

Forever  and  ever 

Your  Soldier. 

Headquarters,  June  i8>  1864. 

Clay's  House,  5:30  P.  M.,  June  17,  1864. 
Lieutenant-General  R.  H.  Anderson, 

Commanding  Longstreet's  Corps. 
General : 

I  take  great  pleasure  in  presenting  to  you  my  congratu- 
lations upon  the  conduct  of  the  men  of  your  corps.  I  be- 
lieve they  will  carry  anything  they  are  put  against.  We 
tried  very  hard  to  stop  Pickett's  men  from  capturing  the 
breastworks  of  the  enemy,  but  could  not  do  it.  I  hope 
his  loss  has  been  small. 

I  am,  with  respect,  your  obedient  servant, 

R.'E.  Lee,  General. 


137 


XXIX 

When  Butler  Burned  the  General's  Old  Home 

WAS  my  letter  of  yesterday  strenuous? 
Well,  it  was  a  strenuous  day,  full  of 
rumors  and  contradictions.  And  yet  in  spite 
of  it  I  managed  to  sandwich  in  between  the 
shelling  and  the  movement  of  the  fleet  and 
the  distinguished  visitors  the  ever  new  and 
true  story  of  my  love.  But  I  had  only  time 
to  make  the  bare  announcement  at  the  close  of 
that  letter  that  Butler  had  burned  our  home 
the  day  before.  If  it  had  been  burned  in  line 
of  battle,  it  would  have  been  all  right;  but  it 
was  not.  It  was  burned  by  Butler  at  a  great 
expense  to  the  Government  and  in  revenge 
for  having  been  outgeneraled  by  a  little  hand- 
ful of  my  men  at  Petersburg  and  for  Grant's 
telegram  to  Mr.  Lincoln,  saying,  "Pickett  has 
bottled  up  Butler  at  Petersburg." 

Mr.  Sims,  who  has  been  our  overseer  ever 
since  I  can  remember,  came  up  from  Turkey 

138 


THE    HEART   OF   A    SOLDIER 

Island  this  morning  to  tell  me  all  about  it. 
The  poor  old  fellow  loved  the  old  place  and  is 
heartbroken  over  its  destruction.  He  says 
they  first  looted  the  house  and  then  shelled  and 
burned  it,  together  with  the  barn  and  stables. 
He  is  very  bitter  and  vindictive  and  vows  all, 
manner  of  eternal  vengeance.  The  poor  old 
chap  is  sensitive  because  I  did  not  rave  and 
rage  with  him,  and  resents  what  he  considers 
my  indifference.  He  gave  me  the  benefit  of 
all  the  swear  words  in  his  vocabulary  when  I 
tried  to  make  him  understand  that  there  are 
weightier  things  and  subjects  of  greater  mo- 
ment than  the  mere  loss  of  personal  property. 
"'Personal  property!'"  he  quoted  indig- 
nantly. "Why,  Turkey  Island  was  your  ma's 
and  pa's  and  their  ma's  and  pa's  before  'em. 
Think  of  them  big  oaks,  them  maiden  trees, 
the  river  and  everything!  Think  of  all  the 
big  men  that's  set  'round  that  old  mahogany 
table  and  jingled  their  glasses  at  that  big  old 
sideboard!  'Personal  property!'  Why,  when 
you  was  just  a  turning  six  your  pa  and  me 
showed  you  the  very  halting  place  whar  in 
January,  1781,  that  traitor,  Benedict  Arnold, 
stopped  on  his  march  to  Richmond  after  he 
139 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

had  come  up  with  the  fleet  at  Jamestown  and 
then  went  on  to  Westover.  'Personal  prop- 
erty!' Why,  I  remember  the  very  day  we  sot 
you  up  in  the  crotch  of  that  great  old  oak 
tree  under  which  Governor  Jefferson  and  Mr. 
Edmund  Randolph  'lighted  from  their  fillies 
and  tied  them  to  one  of  the  limbs  till  they 
could  walk  a  piece  and  see  for  themselves  that 
old  monument  put  up  in  171 1,  eleven  years  be- 
fore that  time,  to  show  how  much  devilment 
a  river  could  do  if  it  had  the  elements  to  help 
it.  'Personal  property!'  Why,  Sir,  there 
wan't  a  picture  or  a  piece  of  furniture  or  a 
statuary  in  that  old  home  that  wan't  only  sea- 
soned with  age,  but  had  a  store  of  valuableness 
to  it  besides,  and  you  passive  and  peaceable, 
taking  the  news  all  quiet  as  if  it  had  been  noth- 
ing but  a- fence  rail  burnt  up,  and  telling  me 
to  my  face,  and  me  a-bustin'  out  with  damna- 
tion from  every  pore,  that  you  had  heard  of 
the  fire,  that  Mr.  Enroughty  had  reported  the 
burning  of  Turkey  Island  yesterday!  'Re- 
ported!' 'Personal  property!'  I  wonder  if  a 
man's  soul  is  personal  property.  Well,  if  it  is 
and  Mr.  Satan  should  ever  report  to  me  that 
he  wanted  any  help  to  keep  up  his  fire  to  burn 

140 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Mr.  Butler's,  or  any  of  his  kind  of  personal 
property,  he  would  know  where  to  get  it  I" 

Poor  Mr.  Sims!  I've  sent  him  with  one  of 
my  couriers  to  find  some  of  his  friends  in  the 
trenches,  where  I  hope  he  will  work  off  some 
of  his  wrath  over  Butler  and  his  kind  and  my 
unfortunate  phrase  "personal  property."  Of 
course  you  know,  my  darling,  that  I  am  not  un- 
mindful of  the  sacredness  of  the  old  home  and 
that  I  grieve  that  it  has  been  destroyed,  but  we 
will  build  us  another  home,  won't  we?  The 
river  is  there,  and  some  of  the  old  trees  are  left. 
And  if  God  should  bless  us  with  a  son  I  shall, 
when  he  is  as  old  as  I  was  then,  take  him  under 
this  same  old  historic  tree  that  Mr.  Sims  speaks 
of  and  tell  him  in  the  very  language  of  my 
father  some  of  the  old  stories  he  used  to  tell 
me,  and  introduce  him  to  the  great  men  of 
those  days  as  my  father  made  me  acquainted 
with  them.     I  can  hear  him  now  say: 

"My  son,  there  was  Madison,  a  very,  very 
small  man  with  introverted  eyes  and  ample 
forehead.  He  dressed  always  in  a  surtout  of 
brown,  which  was  generally  dusty  and  oftener 
than  other ivj.se  faded  and  shabby.  Judge 
Marshall  was  very  tall  and  commanding  and 
141 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

revolutionary  and  patriarchal  in  appearance. 
He  had  fine  expressive  eyes  and  dressed  al- 
ways in  a  well-fitting  surtout  of  blue.  Mr. 
John  Randolph  was  puny  and  frail  and  most 
uncommon  looking.  He  was  swarthy  and 
wrinkled,  with  eyes  as  brilliant  as  stars  of  the 
first  magnitude.  Watkins  Leigh  was  un- 
usually distinguished  in  appearance.  Taze- 
well was  tall  and  fine  looking;  but  Mr.  Mon- 
roe was  very  wrinkled  and  weather-beaten  and 
so  exceedingly  awkward  that  he  stumbled 
over  his  own  feet  and  walked  on  everyone 
else's.  Governor  Giles  used  a  crutch  always 
and  talked  like  molasses  in  July." 

My  father  never  used  made-up  words  or  a 
children's  vocabulary  in  describing  to  me  men 
and  events.  He  would  say,  "Words  are 
things,  my  son.  I  want  you  to  know  them  and 
not  be  like  the  British  officer  who,  when  he 
and  some  of  his  command  were  taken  pris- 
oners and  were  told  by  their  captors  that  they 
were  to  be  paroled,  demanded  in  great  terror 
and  consternation,  "Pray,  what  kind  of  death 
is  that?'  " 

Oh,  my  Sally,  I  dream  of  the  happy  days 
when  you  will  be  the  fair  mistress  of  Turkey 

142 


THE    HEART   OF   A    SOLDIER 

Island,  under  those  old  trees,  with  the  James 
River  always  before  us  and  love  always  with 
us.  As  the  sun  in  the  firmament,  so  is  love 
in  the  world — love,  the  life  of  the  spirit,  the 
root  of  every  virtuous  action.  It  enhanceth 
prosperity,  easeth  adversity  and  maketh  of 
the  slightest  twist  a  Gordian  knot.  It  gives 
vigor  to  the  atmosphere,  fragrance  to  the 
flower,  color  to  the  rainbow,  zest  to  life,  music 
to  laughter,  and  oh,  such  laughter  as  yours, 
my  own,  my  beautiful.  I  love  you  with  all 
my  heart  and  soul  and  mind  and  being. 
A  Dios.     Keep  this  love  close. 

Your  Soldier. 

Headquarters,  June  — ,  1864. 


H3 


PART      FOUR 


In  the  Shadow  of 
the  End 


' I  ''HE  long  struggle  between  the  states 
-*-  was  now  drawing  to  a  close.  The 
South,  depleted  in  men  and  resources, 
awaited  in  grim  despair  the  failure  of  its 
hopes.  Gloom  and  disappointment  settled 
down  upon  all,  men  and  officers  alike,  but 
to  General  Pickett  there  came  a  gleam  of 
happiness  in  the  birth  of  his  son.  The 
event  was  one  that  was  hailed  with  re- 
joicing on  both  sides  of  the  battle  lines — 
for  the  contending  armies  were  but  paces 
apart.  Grant  and  his  staff  sent  a  birth- 
day greeting  to  the  "Little  General"  as 
the  boy  was  dubbed  immediately,  and 
though  the  armies  met  again  in  conflict 
the  incident  served  to  lessen  the  feeling 
that  had  existed  between  them.  A  brief 
nine  months  later,  Pickett  wrote:  "Peace 
is  born." 


XXX 

Upon  Hearing  of  the  Birth   of  the  "Little 
General" 

GOD  bless  you,  little  Mother  of  our  boy — 
bless  and  keep  you.  Heaven  in  all  its 
glory  shine  upon  you;  Eden's  flowers  bloom 
eternal  for  you.  Almost  with  every  breath 
since  the  message  came,  relieving  my  anxiety 
and  telling  me  that  my  darling  lived  and  that 
a  little  baby  had  been  born  to  us,  I  have  been 
a  baby  myself.  Though  I  have  known  all 
these  months  that  from  across  Love's  en- 
chanted land  this  little  child  was  on  its  way 
to  our  twin  souls,  now  that  God's  promise  is 
fulfilled  and  it  has  come,  I  can't  believe  it. 
As  I  think  of  it  I  feel  the  stir  of  Paradise  in 
my  senses,  and  my  spirit  goes  up  in  thankful- 
ness to  God  for  this,  His  highest  and  best — 
the  one  perfect  flower  in  the  garden  of  life — 
Love. 

Blinding  tears  rolled  down  my  cheeks,  my 
147 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

sweetheart,  as  I  read  the  glad  tidings.  And 
a  feeling  so  new,  so  strange,  came  over  me 
that  I  asked  of  the  angels  what  it  could  be 
and  whence  came  the  strains  of  celestial  music 
which  filled  my  soul,  and  what  were  the  great, 
grand,  stirring  hosannas  and  the  soft,  tender, 
sweet  adagios  that  circled  round  and  round, 
warmed  my  every  vein,  beat  in  my  every  pulse. 
And — oh,  little  Mother  of  my  boy — the  echo- 
ing answer  came — "A  little  baby  has  been 
born  to  you,  and  he  and  the  new-born  Mother 
live." 

I  wanted  to  fly  to  you  both,  kneel  by  your 
bedside,  take  your  hand  and  his  little  hand 
in  mine  and  lift  our  hearts  in  thankfulness  to 
the  Heavenly  Throne.  But  when  I  applied 
to  the  great  Tyee  for  a  pass  to  Richmond,  say- 
ing, "My  son  was  born  this  morning,"  he 
replied,  "Your  country  was  born  almost  a  hun- 
dred years  ago."  It  was  the  first  word  of 
reproach  Marse  Robert  ever  spoke  to  me ;  but 
he   was    right   and    I    was    reckless    to    ask. 

Things  may  be  quieter  to-morrow,  sweet- 
heart, perhaps  even  to-night,  and  I  may  be 
able  to  come  in  for  an  hour.  I  must  not  write 
another  word,  though  I  want  to  write  on  and 

148 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

on  and  send  messages  and  kisses  to  the  little 
baby  and  to  caution  its  Mother  to  be  careful 
and  to  tell  her  she  is  ten  thousand  times  more 
precious  than  ever,  but  I  must  not. 

Lovingly  and  forever  and  ever 

Your  Soldier. 

July  ij,  1864 — Our  boy's  birthday. 
Blessed  Day. 


149 


XXXI 

A  Second  Letter  on  His  Son's  Birthday. 

GOD  has  heard  our  prayers,  my  beloved 
wife.  Oh,  the  ecstatic  pleasure  I  felt 
when  Charles  brought  the  Doctor's  letter. 
Precious  one,  you  must  obey  every  injunction 
of  our  dear  Aunt.  Do  not  think  of  writing  or 
exerting  yourself  in  any  way.  She  knows  all 
about  what  should  be  done.  I  am  coming  to 
you  this  evening,  should  General  Lee  say  so, 
and  he  will,  for  I  have  sent  Bright  post  haste 
to  him,  telling  him  of  the  glory  of  the  Star  in 
the  East. 

Oh,  my  pretty  wife!  I  long  to  see  you  and 
your  little  son — Our  son!  Little  new-born 
mother,  I  have  humbly  thanked  God  for  His 
great  and  bounteous  goodness ;  every  breath  I 
breathe  is  one  of  gratitude  to  Him  for  spar- 
ing you  to  me  and  giving  us  a  son — thou  Life 
of  my  soul.     Ever  and  forever 

Your  Devoted  Soldier. 

Sunday,  iyth  July. 
Blessed  Day! 

ISO 


XXXII 

On  the  Occasion  of  His  First  Visit  to  His  Boy 

MY  men  had  all  heard  of  the  arrival  of  the 
"Little  General,"  as  they  call  him,  and 
when  I  was  riding  out  of  camp  last  night  to 
surrender  to  him,  I  noticed  the  bonfires  which 
were  being  kindled  all  along  my  lines  and 
knew  that  my  loyal,  loving  men  were  light- 
ing them  in  honor  of  my  baby.  But  I  did  not 
know  till  this  morning  that  dear  old  Ingalls, 
at  Grant's  suggestion,  had  kindled  a  light  on 
the  other  side  of  the  lines,  too,  and  I  was  over- 
come with  emotion  when  I  learned  of  it.  To- 
day their  note  of  congratulation,  marked  un- 
official, which  I  inclose,  came  to  me  through 
the  lines.  You  must  keep  it  for  the  baby,  with 
the  pass  and  note  of  Marse  Robert  which  I 
put  into  its  little  clenched  hand. 

"Baby!"  Can  it  be  true,  my  darling? 
Heaven  knows  no  deeper  devotion,  no  deeper 
gratitude,  than  that  which  filled  my  heart 
when  I  realized  that  the  golden  dream  of  life 
151 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

had  come  to  pass — was  true;  when  I  looked 
upon  the  sweet,  shy  face  of  my  girl  bride 
and  saw  it  transformed  into  the  sacred  tender- 
ness of  motherhood,  saw  the  grace  and  charm, 
the  soul-born  protecting  look  in  the  mother 
eyes,  the  lilied  sweetness  of  her  face,  the  smile 
of  unlanguaged  mystery,  with  a  gentleness  and 
patience  as  sweet  and  meek  as  Mother  Mary 
wore.  I  knew  it  was  the  Alpha  and  Omega 
of  Heaven. 

I  see  still  the  moss  rose  bud  left  by  the 
Blumen-Engel  as  a  bescheidenen  Schmuck  of 
his  love  nestling  in  your  snow-white  arms  and 
the  long,  dark  lashes  kissing  your  cheeks  as 
you  look  down  upon  it.  I  still  feel  the  mystic 
power  of  the  grasp  of  its  tiny  rose  leaf  fingers 
clutched  around  my  own. 

But  I  must  not  write  another  word — not 
one.  Lovingly, 

Your  Soldier. 

In  Camp,  July  iq,  1864. 

To  George  Pickett: 

We  are  sending  congratulations  to  you,  to  the  young 
mother  and  the  young  recruit. 

Grant,  Ingalls,  Suckley. 
July  18,  1864. 

152 


XXXIII 

Upon  Returning  from  a  Ride  With  Marse 
Robert 

1HAVE  but  a  few  moments  since,  my 
pretty  one,  returned  from  a  ride  with  the 
Tyee  up  one  hill  and  down  the  other.  The 
enemy  occupied  Dutch  Gap  last  evening. 
This  is  higher  up  the  river  than  I  am  and  I 
had  expected  the  Navy  to  take  care  of  our  rear 
but  they  have  allowed  them  to  come  in,  and 
now  I  have  to  stretch  out  my  India  rubber 
division. 

Well,  my  pet,  I  have  to  do  it.  The  General 
did  not  seem  in  a  remarkably  good  humor — 
with  the  news  from  Mobile  and  Bradley, 
Johnson  in  the  valley,  and  this  impudence  of 
the  Yankees  in  crawling  up  behind  us. 

I  am  so  glad,  my  own,  that  you  are  better — 
thank  the  good  God  for  it.  Blair  says  you 
must  not  keep  the  baby  in  your  arms  so  much, 
that  you  are  acting  mother  and  nurse  both. 
153 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Please  listen  to  the  doctor  this  time,  and  to 
your  husband's  pleading.  Blair  says  that  his 
indisposition  is  nothing  but  the  colic,  and  that 
you  must  not  make  yourself  uneasy  about  the 
little  fellow.  You  must  make  Lucinda  nurse 
him  more. 

I  send  you  a  chicken,  a  cup  of  salt,  likewise 
an  apple — one  single  one.  Your  friend,  Miss 
Gamble,  radiant  with  a  white  frock  and  smiles, 
sent  it  to  me  (didn't  give  it)  with  her  compli- 
ments last  night. 

Bye-bye,  Sweet  One. 

Ever  your  own 

Soldier. 

Headquarters,  August  — ,  1864. 


154 


XXXIV 

Concerning  the  Gossip  of  His  Servant,  George 

1LEFT  you  yesterday,  my  darling,  "with 
many  a  pause  and  longing  glance  be- 
hind"; but  out  in  the  midst  of  this  terrible 
conflict  to  which  I  have  come,  your  love  is 
with  me,  shielding  and  blessing  me. 

I  reached  camp  just  before  daybreak. 
George  hustled  around  and  made  me  a  pot 
of  "sho'nough  coffee  wid  no  debultrement  in 
it."  And  while  I  drank  my  coffee  he  kept  off 
the  flies — which,  early  as  it  was,  had  begun 
to  be  very  sociable — entertaining  me  the  while 
with  news  of  the  camp  and  his  own  views  on 
current  events. 

"You  know,  Marse  George,"  he  began,  "po' 
Robert,  Marse  Jefferson  Davis'  mos'  betrusted 
servant,  is  done  en  bruck  out  thick  all  ober  wid 
de  smallpox,  en  dar  ain'  no  tellin'  how  many 
er  de  President's  friends  en  'quaintances  po' 
Robert  is  done  en  kernockulated  wid  it,  kaze 
i55 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

po'  Robert  wuz  moughty  sociable  and 
familious  wid  all  de  President's  friends.  I 
suttinly  hopes  dat  you  en  Gen'l  Lee  en  Gen'l 
Heth  is  gwine  ter  'scape.  I  wuz  so  upsot, 
Marse  George,  by  dis  news  'bout  po'  Robert 
dat  I  couldn't  sleep,  en  I  got  out  behime  de 
tent  en  listened  ter  de  officers  a  talkin'  wid 
dar  moufs  en  gesticulatin'  'bout  de  way  t'ings 
wuz  gwine. 

"Some  er  'em  said  how  ef  Marse  Albert 
Sydney  Johnston  hadn't  been  kilt  at  Shiloh, 
en  ef  Marse  Joe  Johnston  hadn't  been 
wounded  at  Seben  Pines,  en  ef  you  had  been 
s'ported  at  Gettysburg,  dat  t'ings  wouldn't  be 
lak  dey  wuz  now.  Den  one  er  de  officers  say, 
'Yes — yes,  en  ef  all  er  dem  folks  down  dar  in 
New  'Leans  dat  commit  suicide  wid  darse'fs, 
'count  er  ole  Butler's  pusecution  en  hangin's 
en  yuther  devilments,  had  er  kilt  him  fust  fo' 
dey  kilt  deyse'fs  dey'd  er  had  sumpin  ter  die 
fer,  en  de  ole  rascal  wouldn't  be  down  here 
now  adiggin'  dis  Dutch-Gap-Canal  en  givin 
ev'body  ague  en  fever  turnin'  up  de  earf!' 
Den  one  er  de  preacher  officers  say,  'Well,  my 
frien's,  de  trouble  is,  we  all  don'  pray  enough!' 
Marse  Charley  spuck  up  en  say,  'Didn't  Gen'l 

156 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Jackson  pray  enough  fer  us  all,  Colonel?' 
Nur  one  say,  'Yes,  Charley,  but  he  didn't  dust 
his  knees  off  when  he  wuz  through.  He  for- 
got dat  bein'  clean  wuz  nex'  ter  being  Godli- 
some.'  Den  a  nur  one  say,  Well,  but  dar's 
ole  Gen'l  Pemberton  en  Gen'l  Kershaw. 
Dey  wuz  particular  wid  dar  clothes  en  dey 
prayed  all  right.'  Den  Gen'l  Corse  he  spuck 
up  en  say,  'Yes,  but  dey  bofe  think  too  much 
'bout  dar  'pearance.  Dey'd  begin  to  dus'  en 
dus'  dar  knees  fo'  dey  said,  "Amen."  En  dat 
showed  dar  hearts  wan't  in  dar  prayers.' 

"En  gwine  back,  Marse  George,  ter  dat 
Dutch-Gap-Canal,  you  know  Colonel  Mayo's 
nigger,  Big  Joe,  en  sebenteen  mo'  er  de  camp 
niggers  is  done  en  gone  'cross  de  river  ter 
jine  de  Yankee  Army  en  he'p  de  res'  er  dem 
Yankee-nigger  snldiers  ter  dig  dat  canal  ditch 
dey's  diggin'  er  'count  er  all  dat  extra 
money  en  extra  drams  en  coffee  en  yuther 
extras  Gen'l  Butler  promise  ter  give  'em. 
Now,  Marse  George,  you  know  dat  dat's 
projickin'  wid  de  Lord's  handy  works,  en 
sumpin  mousterious  en  terrible  is  gwine  ter 
happen  ter  dem  niggers.  Diggin'  dat  canal 
sho'ly  is  gwine  ag'inst  de  judgment  er  de 
i57 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Lord,  fer  ef  de  Lord  had  er  wanted  de  Jeemes 
River  ter  a  jined  on  ter  itse'f  He'd  a  jined  it. 
He  wouldn't  a  put  a  little  slice  er  land  in  be- 
twixt. En  sho's  you're  bawn  projickin'  wid 
de  Lord's  work  en  unj'inin'  whut  He's  j'ined 
tergedder  ain'  a  gwine  ter  bring  dem  niggers 
no  proskerity." 

Having  finished  my  breakfast  George  went 
out  to  get  breakfast  for  the  mess,  and  before 
they  had  assembled  I  had  cleared  off  my  desk 
and  written  several  letters.  All  made  affec- 
tionate inquiries  for  you  and  our  little  son, 
though  some  of  them  did  not  know  that  I  had 
ridden  in  last  night  until  I  told  them. 

I  must  go  now,  my  darling,  and  ride  around 
the  lines  and  make  my  report,  but  will  add  a 
few  more  words  later  on.     So  adios  till  then. 


Well,  my  darling,  we  have  had  a  most  ex- 
citing day.  Marse  Robert  came  out.  He 
was  restive  and  very,  very  silent.  We  had 
just  paid  our  respects  to  Butler's  diggers  when 
he  arrived.  The  device  we  used  in  so  doing 
was  a  new  one  or  rather  a  very  old  one  newly 
revived.     It  was  a  mortar  battery  hidden  in 

is8 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

the  bushes.  It  is  invisible  to  the  enemy  and 
easily  shifted  from  one  hiding  place  to  the 
other.  It  used  to  be  the  only  way  in  which 
shells  could  be  thrown.  It  throws  these  shells 
high  in  the  air,  and  they  fall  by  their  own 
weight  without  the  least  warning  of  their 
coming.  There  is  no  screaming  or  squealing 
sound  like  that  made  by  our  modern  shells. 
They  fall  almost  as  silently  as  a  snowflake 
falls,  and  it  seems  to  me  almost  barbarous  to 
drop  these  silent,  ghostly  missiles  down  upon 
those  light-hearted,  happy-go-lucky  negroes, 
for  I  learn  that  it  is  they  that  are  doing  the 
digging.  Butler,  with  promise  of  extra  pay 
for  extra  work  and  extra  danger,  has  induced 
four  hundred  of  the  colored  soldiers  to  vol- 
unteer to  sheathe  their  swords  and  take  up 
the  shovel  and  go  to  digging. 

The  bank  to  be  cut  through  is  only  about 
five  feet  at  the  highest  point.  The  canal  is 
to  be  where  the  James  makes  a  great  bend  just 
above  Dutch  Gap,  inclosing  a  point  of  land 
perhaps  half  a  mile  wide  and  about  three 
miles  in  length  and  which  at  the  neck  is  only 
five  hundred  yards  across  from  river  to  river. 
Their  canal  would  thus  save  them  six  miles 
159 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

and  would  allow  their  gunboats  to  go  up  the 
James  without  running  the  gauntlet  of  our 
Howlett  guns,  our  sunken  torpedoes  et  cetera. 
And  as  our  left  is  all  at  the  turn  of  the  bend, 
they  would  not  have  to  traverse  the  open  river 
in  search  of  an  exposed  water  channel.  It  is 
strange  that  some  of  our  brilliant  engineers 
haven't  made  this  near  cut  years  ago.  As  for 
me,  I  should  encourage  Butler  and  his  River 
Improvement  Company,  and  cease  throwing 
these  stealthy  shells  whose  silent  fall  heralds  a 
sudden  roar  of  explosion  that  strikes  terror 
to  my  soul.  The  canal  will  be  an  advantage 
to  us,  and  Butler,  in  digging  it  for  us,  may  in 
part  atone  for  the  many  homes  he  has  de- 
stroyed, mine  among  them. 

Well,  my  darling,  if  you  were  not  the  best 
of  all  good  women,  as  well  as  the  most  beauti- 
ful of  all  beautiful  women  and  the  most  pa- 
tient of  all  patient  ones,  you  would  weary  of 
so  tiresome  a  soldier,  who  takes  away  the 
fragrance  of  flowers  and  the  glory  of  love 
and  sends  back  the  echo  of  war  and  its  sorrows 
and  the  babble  of  a  loyal  old  cook  who 
wouldn't  be  sold  and  wouldn't  run  away  and 
whom  I  was  obliged  to  permit  to  be  credited 

1 60 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

to  me  in  order  to  save  him — the  only  negro  I 
own — but,  come  to  think  of  it,  he  owns  me. 
Forever  and  ever 

Your  Soldier. 

In  Camp j  August  — ,  1864. 


161 


XXXV 

After  an  Evening  Spent  at  the  "White  House'* 
of  the  Confederacy 

YOU  will  be  glad,  my  darling  wife,  that 
the  "powwow"  with  "the  Powers  that 
be"  was  most  satisfactory. 

After  the  evening  consultation  I  called  on 
the  ladies  at  the  "White  House"  and  at  the 
most  earnest  entreaty  and  solicitation  of  Mrs. 
Davis  and  her  sister,  Miss  Howell,  dined  with 
them.  Poor  Mr.  Davis  looks  tired  and  anx- 
ious, but  he  spoke  so  hopefully  of  our  success 
that,  knowing,  as  he  must  know,  our  status, 
the  condition  of  our  army,  etc.,  I  should  have 
thought  that  he  was  aware  of  something  hope- 
ful of  which  we  are  ignorant  if  he  had  not 
said  later,  when  foreign  intervention  was 
being  discussed,  that  he  believed  that  England 
and,  in  fact,  all  the  foreign  powers  were  like 
the  woman  who  saw  her  husband  fighting  a 
bear — she  didn't  care  a  continental  which  was 

j  62 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

whipped,  but  she'd  be  the  best  pleased  if  both 
were.  "And  my  only  hope  of  recognition," 
he  said,  "is  that,  being  separated,  we  shall  not 
be  so  formidable  a  power." 

The  dinner,  my  dearest,  was  beautiful,  and 
so  abundant  were  its  luxuries  that  I  marveled 
greatly,  knowing,  as  I  do,  how  difficult  it  is 
with  most  of  us  to  get  even  a  little  tea  or  coffee 
or  salt.  As  usual,  Mrs.  Davis  was  vivacious 
and  entertaining.  She  amusingly  described 
her  rescue  of  a  little  orphan  negro  from  a 
"great  black  brute"  who  had  constituted  him- 
self the  boy's  guardian.  She  told  how  she 
had  him  washed  and  combed  and  dressed  in  a 
suit  of  little  Joe's  clothes,  and  how,  while  he 
was  proud  of  the  clothes,  he  was  a  thousand 
times  prouder  of,  and  more  grateful  for,  the 
cuts  and  bruises  which  his  self-appointed 
guardian  had  given  him  and  which,  upon  all 
occasions,  he  triumphantly  exhibited  as 
medals  of  honor.  She  said  that  the  little 
rascal  was  greatly  troubled  when  the  cuts  were 
finally  healed  and  tried  to  reopen  them  with  a 
dog  knife  which  was  taken  away.  He  was 
then  reproved  and  forbidden  to  make  over  his 
wounds. 
163 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

"Oh,  Lordy,"  he  howled,  "ef  you-all  teks 
my  sores  'way  fum  me  I  won't  hab  nuttin'  'tall 
ter  show  ter  all  de  comp'ny,  en  I  won't  hab  a 
single  thing  ter  mek  'em  all  sorry  'bout,  en 
nuttin'  ter  mek  'em  gib  me  no  mo'  things. 
Oh,  Lordy,  I'd  ruther  you'd  all  whop  me  dan 
notter  let  me  hab  my  sores  no  mo.'  " 

With  her  keen  sense  of  humor  Mrs.  Davis 
told  us  how,  when  learning  that  one  after  an- 
other of  her  maids  was  being  bribed  by  the 
Yankees  with  money  and  promises  to  betray  the 
family  and  come  over  to  the  other  side,  she 
would  pretend  ignorance  of  the  intention,  give 
them  food  for  imagination,  reciting  for  their 
repetition  the  most  impossible,  outlandish 
stories,  some  of  which  she  told  us  and  which  I 
will  tell  my  darling  when  I  come.  Bless  her! 
Mrs.  Davis  said  that  Betty,  the  last  one  of  her 
maids  to  go,  was  such  an  excellent  maid  and 
so  hard  to  replace  that  as  soon  as  she  began 
to  show  her  prosperity,  appearing  with  silks 
and  jewels  and  then  with  gold  and  notes,  she 
had  tried,  without  letting  Betty  suspect  her  in- 
tention, to  offer  her  inducements  to  remain, 
but  had  failed.  Betty,  she  said,  was  superior 
to  her  class,  however,  and  showed  her  con- 

164 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

sideration  by  offering  Miss  Howell  part  of 
the  as  yet  unearned  bribe,  and  assuring  her 
that  "Ef  eber  I  did  git  a  chance  ter  tell  dem 
dar  Yankees  'bout  dey-all  I  suttinly  aren't 
gwine  tell  'em  none  er  de  awful  scand'lus 
things  I  en  Mrs.  Davis  was  all  de  time  a  doin' 
en  dat  dey  all  does.  No,  I  am  gwine  ter  mek 
de  best  er  hit  en  leave  outn  de  worse." 

Mrs.  Davis  said  she  was  so  depressed  after 
'Betty's  departure  and  in  such  dire  need  of 
mental  soothing  syrup  that  she  went  into  re- 
tirement with  "Adam  Bede,"  "A  Country 
Gentleman  in  Town"  and  "Elective  Affini- 
ties."    Did  you  ever,  my  darling! 

Mr.  Judah  P.  Benjamin  and  Dr.  Minne- 
gerode  were  the  only  other  guests.  Mr.  Ben- 
jamin's usually  wonderful,  judicial  mind  and 
depressing  dignity  were  not  in  evidence.  He 
did  rather  reproachfully  express  his  astonish- 
ment that  Mr.  Davis  should  be  bowed  down 
with  grief  at  the  adverse  criticisms  of  those  he 
was  trying  to  serve,  and  that  he  should  care  a 
bauble  for  their  accusations  of  nepotism  and 
the  more  absurd  charge  of  leaving  his  cotton 
to  be  bought  by  the  Yankees.  He  ended  by 
saying  that  he  continually  had  to  remind  Mr. 
165 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Davis  of  that  exceedingly  good  man,  Mr. 
Christ.  You  know  Benjamin  was  born  at  St. 
Croix  in  the  West  Indies,  of  Jewish  parents. 
What  a  gossip  your  husband  is,  my  Sally, 
but  I  promised  to  write  my  beautiful  tyrant 
every  day,  everything  I  said  or  did  or  that 
anyone  else  said  or  did,  and  I  have,  haven't  I? 
Forever  and  ever  and  ever 

Your  Soldier. 

Richmond,  Jan.  25,  1865. 


166 


XXXVI 

In  the  Dark  Days  Before  the  End 

THIS  morning  at  breakfast,  my  darling 
Sally,  when  you  suggested  having  an 
oyster  roast  for  my  officers  after  our  confer- 
ence to-night,  I  said  that  I  feared  we  should 
not  have  enough  oysters.  Our  old  hunter, 
Gossett,  has  just  brought  in  a  fine  large  wild 
turkey,  and  with  that  and  the  three  bushels  of 
oysters  which  your  uncle  sent  I  think  we  can 
get  up  a  fine  supper.  Don't  you,  my  marvel 
of  a  housekeeper?  I  hope  you  can,  and  hope, 
too,  that  the  good  cheer  it  will  provide  will 
help  us  to  new  and  encouraging  suggestions, 
for,  as  hopeful  as  I  always  am,  even  my  heart 
is  in  my  boots. 

On  every  side  gloom,  dissatisfaction  and 
disappointment  seem  to  have  settled  over  all, 
men  and  officers  alike,  because  of  the  unsuc- 
cessful termination  of  the  Peace  Conference 
on  board  the  River  Queen  on  the  fatal  third. 
167 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

The  anxious,  despairing  faces  I  see  every- 
where bespeak  heavy  hearts.  Our  commis- 
sioners knew  that  we  were  gasping  our  last 
gasp  and  that  the  Peace  Conference  was  a  for- 
lorn hope.  Because  of  the  informality  of  the 
conference  and  my  knowledge  of  Mr.  Lincoln, 
his  humanity,  his  broad  nature,  his  warm 
heart,  I  did  believe  he  would  take  advantage 
of  this  very  informality  and  spring  some  wise, 
superhuman  surprise  which  would,  somehow, 
restore  peace  and  in  time  insure  unity.  Now, 
heaven  help  us,  it  will  be  war  to  the  knife, 
with  a  knife  no  longer  keen,  the  thrust  of  an 
arm  no  longer  strong,  the  certainty  that  when 
peace  comes  it  will  follow  the  tread  of  the 
conqueror. 

I  fear  that  you  may  need  more  help ;  so  am 
sending  over  Bob.  The  mess-cook  will  come 
later. 

Meantime,  a  Dios,  and  love, 

Your  Soldier. 

Headquarters,  January  28,  186$. 


168 


XXXVII 

Written  in  Defeat,  After  the  Battle  of  Five 
Forks 

IT  is  long  past  the  midnight  hour  and,  like 
a  boy,  I  have  been  reading  over  your  dear, 
cheery  letter,  caressing  the  written  page  be- 
cause it  has  been  touched  by  your  hand. 

All  is  quiet  now,  but  soon  all  will  be  bustle, 
for  we  march  at  daylight.  Oh,  my  darling, 
were  there  ever  such  men  as  those  of  my  divi- 
sion? This  morning  after  the  review  I  thanked 
them  for  their  valiant  services  yesterday  on  the 
first  of  April,  never  to  be  forgotten  by  any  of 
us,  when,  to  my  mind,  they  fought  one  of  the 
most  desperate  battles  of  the  whole  war. 
Their  answer  to  me  was  cheer  after  cheer,  one 
after  another  calling  out,  "That's  all  right, 
Marse  George,  we  only  followed  you."  Then 
in  the  midst  of  these  calls  and  silencing  them, 
rose  loud  and  clear  dear  old  Gentry's  voice, 
singing  the  old  hymn  which  they  all  knew  I 
loved : 
169 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

"Guide  me,  oh,  thou  great  Jehovah, 
Pilgrim  through  this  barren  land." 

Voice  after  voice  joined  in  till  from  all 
along  the  line  the  plea  rang  forth : 

"Be  my  sword  and  shield  and  banner, 
Be  the  Lord  my  righteousness." 

I  don't  think,  my  Sally,  the  tears  sounded 
in  my  voice  as  it  mingled  with  theirs ;  but  they 
were  in  my  eyes  and  there  was  something  new 
in  my  heart. 

When  the  last  line  had  been  sung,  I  gave 
the  order  to  march,  proceeding  to  this  point 
where  I  had  expected  to  cross  the  Appomattox 
and  rejoin  the  main  army.  While  we  were 
at  a  halt  here  orders  came  from  General  R.  H. 
Anderson  to  report  to  him  at  Sutherland's 
Tavern. 

Just  after  mailing  my  letter  to  you  at  Five 
Forks,  telling  you  of  our  long,  continuous 
march  of  eighteen  hours  and  of  the  strenuous 
hours  following  those,  where  I  had,  because  of 
exigent  circumstances,  been  induced  to  fall 
back  at  daylight,  I  received  a  dispatch  from 
the  great  Tyee  telling  me  to  "hold  Five 
Forks   at  all  hazards  to  prevent  the  enemy 

170 


You  must  have  been  up  all 
night,  my  Prettice,  to  have  made 
up  and  sent  out  such  a  basket 
of  goodies  and  baked  and  but- 
tered such  a  lot  of  biscuit  and 
made  so  many  jugs  of  coffee. 
My,  I  tell  you,  it  all  tasted 
good! — Page  123 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

from  striking  the  south  side  railroad."  This 
dispatch  was  in  reply  to  one  I  had  sent  to  him 
reporting  the  state  of  affairs  and  that  the 
enemy  were  trying  to  get  in  between  the  army 
and  my  command,  and  asking  that  diversion 
be  made  at  once  or  I  should  be  isolated. 

I  had  had  all  trains  parked  in  the  rear  of 
Hatcher's  Run  and  much  preferred  that  posi- 
tion, but,  from  the  General's  dispatch,  sup- 
posed that  he  intended  sending  reinforcements. 
I  immediately  formed  line  of  battle  upon  the 
White  Oak  Road  and  set  my  men  to  throw- 
ing up  temporary  breastworks.  Pine  trees 
were  felled,  a  ditch  dug  and  the  earth  thrown 
up  behind  the  logs.  The  men,  God  bless 
them,  though  weary  and  hungry,  sang  as  they 
felled  and  dug.  Three  times  in  the  three 
hours  their  labors  were  suspended  because  of 
attack  from  the  front;  but  they  as  cheerily  re- 
turned to  their  digging  and  to  their  "Annie 
Laurie"  and  "Dixie"  as  if  they  were  banking 
roses  for  a  festival. 

Five  Forks  is  situated  in  a  flat,  thickly 
wooded  country  and  is  simply  a  crossing  at 
right  angles  of  two  country  roads  and  a  de- 
flection of  a  third  bisecting  one  of  these  an- 
171 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

gles.  Our  line  of  battle,  short  as  four  small 
brigades  front  must  be,  could  readily  be 
turned  on  either  flank  by  a  larger  attacking 
force.  Do  you  understand,  my  dear?  If  not, 
you  will  some  day,  and  you  can  keep  this  letter 
and  show  it  to  someone  who  will  understand. 
Well,  I  made  the  best  arrangements  of 
which  the  nature  of  the  ground  admitted, 
placing  W.  H.  F.  Lee's  Cavalry  on  the  right, 
Ransom's  and  Wallace's  Brigades,  acting  as 
one  and  numbering  about  nine  hundred,  on 
the  left;  then  Corse,  Terry  and  Stuart,  num- 
bering about  three  thousand.  Six  rifled  pieces 
of  artillery  were  placed  at  wide  intervals. 
Fitz  Lee's  Cavalry  was  ordered  to  take  posi- 
tion on  the  left  flank.  About  two  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon  Sheridan  made  a  heavy  demon- 
stration with  his  cavalry,  threatening  also  the 
right  flank.  Meantime  Warren's  Corps 
swept  around  the  left  flank  and  rear  of  the 
infantry  line,  attacking  Ransom  and  Stuart  be- 
hind their  breastworks.  Ransom  sent  word 
that  the  cavalry  was  not  in  position,  and  Fitz 
Lee  was  again  ordered  to  cover  the  ground 
at  once.  I  supposed  it  had  been  done,  when 
suddenly  the  enemy  in  heavy  infantry  column 

172 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

appeared  on  our  left  and  the  attack  became 
general.  Ransom's  horse  was  killed,  falling 
with  his  rider  under  him.  His  Assistant  Ad- 
jutant, General  Gee,  was  killed.  My  dear, 
brave  old  friend,  Willie  Pegram  was  mor- 
tally wounded,  falling  within  a  few  yards  of 
me  just  after  we  had  exchanged  "Kla-how- 
ya,  Tik-eghV  (how  are  you,  love  to  you)  "and 
good  luck."  The  captain  of  his — Pegram's 
— battery  was  killed. 

I  succeeded  in  getting  a  sergeant  and 
enough  men  to  man  one  piece;  but  after  firing 
eight  rounds  the  axle  broke.  Floweree's  regi- 
ment fought  hand  to  hand  after  all  their  car- 
tridges had  been  used.  The  small  cavalry 
force  which  had  gotten  into  place  gave  way, 
and  the  enemy  poured  in  on  Wallace's  left. 
Charge  after  charge  was  made  and  repulsed, 
and  division  after  division  of  the  enemy  ad- 
vanced upon  us.  Our  left  was  turned;  we 
were  completely  entrapped.  Their  cavalry, 
charging  at  a  signal  of  musketry  from  the  in- 
fantry, enveloped  us  front  and  right  and, 
sweeping  down  upon  our  rear,  held  us  as  in 
a  vise. 

"Take  this,  Marse  George,"  said  one  of  my 
i73 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

boys  earlier  in  the  action,  hastily  thrusting  a 
battle-flag  into  my  hand.  I  took  the  flag, 
stained  with  his  blood,  sacred  to  the  cause  for 
which  he  fell,  and,  cheering  as  I  waved  it, 
called  on  my  men  to  get  into  line  to  meet  the 
next  charge.  Seeing  this,  a  part  of  the  famous 
old  Glee  Club,  our  dear  old  Gentry  leading, 
began  singing,  "Rally  round  the  flag,  boys; 
rally  once  again."  I  rode  straight  up  to 
where  they  were  and  joined  in  singing,  "Rally 
Once  Again,"  as  I  waved  the  blood-stained 
flag.  And,  my  darling,  overpowered,  de- 
feated, cut  to  pieces,  starving,  captured,  as  we 
were,  those  that  were  left  of  us  formed  front 
and  north  and  south  and  met  with  sullen  des- 
peration their  double  onset.  With  the  mem- 
bers of  my  own  staff  and  the  general  officers 
and  their  staff  officers  we  compelled  a  rally 
and  stand  of  Corse's  Brigade  and  W.  H.  F. 
Lee's  Cavalry,  who  made  one  of  the  most  bril- 
liant cavalry  fights  of  the  war,  enabling  many 
of  us  to  escape  capture.  Our  loss  in  killed  and 
wounded  was  heavy,  and  yet,  my  darling,  with 
all  the  odds  against  us  we  might  possibly  have 
held  out  till  night,  which  was  fast  approach- 
ing, but  that  our  ammunition  was  exhausted. 

i74 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

We  yielded  to  an  overwhelming  force,  Sher- 
idan's Cavalry  alone  numbering  more  than 
double  my  whole  command,  with  Warren's 
Infantry  Corps  to  back  them. 

Ah,  my  Sally,  the  triumphs  of  might  are 
transient;  but  the  sufferings  and  crucifixions 
for  the  right  can  never  be  forgotten.  The 
sorrow  and  song  of  my  glory-crowned  division 
nears  its  doxology.  May  God  pity  those  who 
wait  at  home  for  the  soldier  who  has  reported 
to  the  Great  Commander!  God  pity  them  as 
the  days  go  by  and  the  sad  nights  follow. 

The  birds  were  hushed  in  the  woods  when 
I  started  to  write,  and  now  one  calls  to  its 
mate  "Cheer  up — cheer  up."  Let's  listen  and 
obey  the  birds,  my  darling.  Let's  try  to  cheer 
up — cheer  up.  I  remember  that  Milton  said : 
"Those  who  best  bear  His  mild  yoke,  they 
serve  Him  best."  Let's  bear  and  serve  Him 
best,  my  darling  wife. 

Faithfully  your 

Soldier. 

Exeter  Mills,  April  2,  1865. 


175 


XXXVIII 

Three  Hours  Before  Lee's  Surrender  at 
Appomattox 

TO-MORROW,  my  darling,  may  see  our 
flag  furled  forever.  Jackerie,  our 
faithful  old  mail-carrier,  sobs  behind  me  as 
I  write.  He  bears  to-night  this — his  last — 
message  from  me  as  "Our  Cupid."  First  he 
is  commissioned  with  three  orders,  which  I 
know  you  will  obey  as  fearlessly  as  the  bravest 
of  your  brother  soldiers.  Keep  up  a  stout 
heart.  Believe  that  I  shall  come  back  to  you 
and  know  that  God  reigns.  After  to-night 
you  will  be  my  whole  command — staff,  field 
officers,  men — all.  The  second  commission  is 
only  given  as  a  precaution — lest  I  should  not 
return  or  lest  for  some  time  I  should  not  be 
with  you. 

Lee's  surrender  is  imminent.     It  is  finished. 
Through  the  suggestion  of  their  commanding 
officers  as  many  of  the  men  as  desire  are  per- 
iod 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

mitted  to  cut  through  and  join  Johnston's 
army.  The  cloud  of  despair  settled  over  all 
on  the  third,  when  the  tidings  came  to  us  of 
the  evacuation  of  Richmond  and  its  partial 
loss  by  fire.  The  homes  and  families  of  many 
of  my  men  were  there,  and  all  knew  too  well 
that  with  the  fall  of  our  Capital  the  last  hope 
of  success  was  over.  And  yet,  my  beloved, 
these  men  as  resolutely  obeyed  the  orders  of 
their  commanding  officers  as  if  we  had  cap- 
tured and  burned  the  Federal  Capital. 

The  horrors  of  the  march  from  Five  Forks 
to  Amelia  Court  House  and  thence  to  Sailor's 
Creek  beggars,  all  description.  For  forty- 
eight  hours  the  man  or  officer  who  had  a  hand- 
ful of  parched  corn  in  his  pocket  was  most 
fortunate.  We  reached  Sailor's  Creek  on  the 
morning  of  the  sixth,  weary,  starving,  despair- 
ing. 

Sheridan  was  in  our  front,  delaying  us  with 
his  cavalry  (as  was  his  custom)  until  the  in- 
fantry should  come  up.  Mahone  was  on  our 
right,  Ewell  on  our  left.  Mahone  was  or- 
dered to  move  on,  and  we  were  ordered  to 
stand  still.  The  movement  of  Mahone  left  a 
gap  which  increased  as  he  went  on.  Huger's 
i77 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

battalion  of  artillery,  in  attempting  to  cross 
the  gap,  was  being  swept  away  when  I  pushed 
on  with  two  of  my  brigades  across  Sailor's 
Creek. 

We  formed  line  of  battle  across  an  open 
field,  holding  it  against  repeated  charges  of 
Sheridan's  dismounted  cavalry.  At  about 
three  o'clock  the  infantry  which  Sheridan  had 
been  looking  for  came  up,  completely  hem- 
ming us  in.  Anderson  ordered  me  to  draw  off 
my  brigades  to  the  rear  and  to  cut  our  way 
out  in  any  possible  manner  that  we  could. 
Wise's  Brigade  was  deployed  in  the  rear  to 
assist  us,  but  was  charged  upon  on  all  sides 
by  the  enemy  and,  though  fighting  manfully 
to  the  last,  was  forced  to  yield.  Two  of  my 
brigadiers,  Corse  and  Hunton,  were  taken 
prisoners.  The  other  two  barely  escaped,  and 
my  life,  by  some  miracle,  was  spared.  And 
by  another  miracle,  greater  still,  I  escaped 
capture.  A  squadron  of  the  enemy's  cavalry 
was  riding  down  upon  us,  two  of  my  staff  and 
myself,  when  a  small  squad  of  my  men  recog- 
nized me  and,  risking  their  own  lives,  rallied 
to  our  assistance  and  suddenly  delivered  a  last 
volley  into  the  faces  of  the  pursuing  horse- 

178 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

men,  checking  them  but  for  a  moment.  But 
in  that  one  moment  we,  by  the  speed  of  our 
horses,  made  our  escape.  Ah,  my  darling,  the 
sacrifice  of  this  little  band  of  men  is  like  unto 
that  which  was  made  at  Calvary. 

It  is  finished!  Ah,  my  beloved  division! 
Thousands  of  them  have  gone  to  their  eternal 
home,  having  given  up  their  lives  for  the  cause 
they  knew  to  be  just.  The  others,  alas,  heart- 
broken, crushed  in  spirit,  are  left  to  mourn  its 
loss.  Well,  it  is  practically  all  over  now. 
We  have  poured  out  our  blood  and  suffered 
untold  hardships  and  privations  all  in  vain. 
And  now,  well,  /  must  not  forget,  either,  that 
God  reigns.  Life  is  given  us  for  the  perform- 
ance of  duty,  and  duty  performed  is  happi- 
ness. 

It  is  finished — the  suffering,  the  horrors,  the 
anguish  of  these  last  hours  of  struggle.  The 
glorious  gift  of  your  love  will  help  me  to  bear 
the  memory  of  them.  In  this  midnight  hour 
I  feel  the  caressing  blessing  of  your  pure 
spirit  as  it  mingles  with  mine.  Peace  is  born. 
From  now  forever  only 

Your  Soldier. 

Appomattox,  April,  1865. 
179 


A  FTER  the  war  had  passed,  and  with 
•£*•  it  the  necessity  for  separation  from 
his  dear  one,  the  General's  letters  grew 
less  frequent.  He  was  seldom  far  from 
her  side.  A  year  they  spent  together  in 
Canada  during  the  exile  which  was  en- 
forced upon  many  of  the  leaders  of  the 
Lost  Cause.  Then,  when  the  ban  was 
finally  lifted,  the  General  returned  with 
his  pretty  wife  to  face  the  problem  that 
pressed  heavily  upon  all  Southerners — 
the  disheartening  task  of  rearing  a  new 
home  on  the  ruins  of  the  old.  Their  at- 
tempt was  not  altogether  successful,  but 
amid  the  surroundings  of  peace  they  found 
time  to  work  out  in  practical  form  the 
dream  ^  of  happiness  which  had  come  to 
them  in  darker  days. 

The  letters  in  this  part  are  written  on 
occasional  absences.  They  cover  a  period 
of  ten  years  or  more,  extending  almost  to 
the  time  of  the  General's  death,  and  to 
the  end  they  breathe  in  every  line  his 
loyalty  and  devotion  to  the  noble  woman 
whose  love  had  crowned  his  life. 


XXXIX 

In   Which   the   General   Tells   of  a   Trip   to 

Washington  and  a  Visit  With  His 

Old  Friend,  Grant 

SUCKLEY  l  and  I  arrived  safely  after  an 
interesting  but,  to  me,  sad  trip,  because 
of  the  many  sorrowful  memories  that  it 
brought  back.  Ingalls,2  bless  his  old  loyal 
heart,  met  us  at  the  train  and  took  us  up  in  the 
Quartermaster's  carriage.  It  is  the  first  time 
that  I  have  ridden  in  one  of  Uncle  Sam's 
vehicles  since  I  changed  colors  and  donned 
the  gray,  and  now  I  ride,  not  as  an  owner  but 
as  a  guest!  Again,  my  darling,  there  came  to 
me  memories  of  the  "has  been"  and  "might 
have  been." 

"Well,  George,"  said  Rufus,  "this  looks 
kind  of  natural,  doesn't  it,  old  man?"  but  be- 
fore I  could  reply,  intuitively  sensing  what  I 

1  Gi  ant's  surgeon. 

2  Grant's  quartermaster. 

1*3 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

was  feeling,  he  continued  hurriedly  "and  this 
rig  is  at  your  service  all  the  time  you  are 
here." 

The  three  of  us  had  dinner  together. 
Pitcher,3  whom  you've  heard  me  speak  of  as 
"Old  Jug,"  came  over  from  his  table  and 
joined  us  at  dessert.  After  dinner  all  four  of 
us  went  to  the  theater  to  hear  Billy  Florence. 
We  sent  a  line  in  to  him  from  our  box  and 
when  he  came  out  he  strode  across  the  stage 
and,  looking  directly  at  us,  said  in  his  most 
tragic  tone  and  manner:  "The  Lamb  and  the 
Lion  shall  lie  down  together,"  and  then  went 
on  with  his  part.  He  knew  and  we  knew, 
but  the  audience  didn't.  He  played  to  us,  too, 
all  evening  and  never  played  better.  After 
the  play  we  went  behind  the  scenes  and  had  a 
charming  visit  with  Mrs.  Florence,  who  gra- 
ciously gave  her  consent  to  Billy's  going  out 
to  supper  with  us. 

"And,  by  the  way,  General  Pickett,"  said 
Mrs.  Florence,  "how  is  that  beautiful  Mrs. 
Edwards 4  with  whom  I  saw  you  in  Montreal 
and  with  whom  you  were  so  much  in  love  and 

3  General  T.  Pitcher,  U.  S.  A. 

4  Edwards  was  the  assumed  name  of  General  Pickett  and  his 
wife  during  their  exile  in  Canada. 

184 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

who,  come  to  think  of  it,  won  all  our  hearts? 
Poor  Ellen  Tree  was  talking  about  her  the 
last  time  I  saw  her, —  And  how  is  that  laugh- 
ing, bright-eyed  baby  who  made  a  drum  of 
himself  and  a  prancing  steed  of  everybody 
else's  cane?  I  can  see  him  now,  with  his  mass 
of  ringlets  and  his  sparkling,  laughing  eyes. 
He  had  just  learned  to  walk  and  yet  was 
charging  the  enemy  on  his  fiery  steed,  beating 
an  imaginary  drum  and  blowing  an  imaginary 
fife.     It  was  the  funniest  thing  I  ever  saw." 

I  told  Mrs.  Florence  that  we  had  returned 
to  the  States,  that  little  George  could  ride  a 
real  horse  now  and  beat  a  real  drum,  and  that 
I  was  just  as  much  as  ever  in  love  with  Mrs. 
Edwards,  who  had  become  so  attached  to  her 
assumed  name  that  she  hated  to  give  it  up  and 
insisted  that  we  should  now  and  then  call  each 
other  "Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edwards,"  to  keep  in 
memory  the  sweet,  all-belonging  life  we  spent 
with  each  other  in  Canada. 

We  had  a  fine  steamed-oyster  supper  at 
Harvey's  and  told  stories  and  talked  of  old 
times  till  after  two  o'clock. 

I  got  up  this  morning  just  in  time  to  go  to 
twelve  o'clock  breakfast  at  the  Club  with 
185 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Ruf us.  After  breakfast  we  went,  as  arranged, 
to  see  Grant.  I  just  can't  tell  you,  my  darling, 
about  that  visit.  You'll  have  to  wait  till  I 
see  you  to  tell  you  how  the  warm-hearted  mod- 
est old  warrior  and  loyal  old  friend  met  me 
— how  he  took  in  his  the  hand  of  your  heart- 
sore  soldier — poor,  broken,  defeated — profes- 
sion gone — and  looking  at  him  for  a  moment 
without  speaking,  said  slowly:  "Pickett,  if 
there  is  anything  on  the  top  of  God's  green 
earth  that  I  can  do  for  you,  say  so."  Just  then 
his  orderly  apologetically  brought  in  a  card  to 

him.     "Tell  Sheridan  to  go  to !"     "Yis, 

surh,  I'll  till  him,  surh."  "And  go  there  your- 
self!"  "Yis,  surh,  I'll  go,  surh."  Ruf  us,  who 
was  whistling  over  at  the  window,  reiterated 
Grant's  order,  receiving  from  the  orderly  the 
same  assurance,  "Yis,  surh,  I'll  till  him,  surh." 
While  Sheridan  was  obeying  Grant's  order 
and  going  to  his  new  station  we  three  sat  down 
and  had  a  heart-to-heart  conference.  One  lis- 
tening would  never  have  known  that  we  had 
been  on  opposite  sides  of  any  question. 

When  I  started  to  go  Grant  pulled  down  a 
cheque-book  and  said,  "Pickett,  it  seems  funny, 
doesn't  it,  that  I  should  have  any  money  to 

186 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

offer,  but  how  much  do  you  need?"  "Not 
any,  old  fellow,  not  a  cent,  thank  you,"  I  said. 
"I  have  plenty."  "But  Rufus  tells  me  that 
you  have  begun  to  build  a  house  to  take  the 
place  of  the  one  old  Butler  burned  and  how 
can  you  build  it  without  money;  you  do  need 
some."  "I  have  sold  some  timber  to  pay  for 
it,"  I  told  him,  and  to  show  my  appreciation 
and  gratitude  unobserved  I  affectionately 
squeezed  his  leg,  when  he  called  out,  "Rufus, 
it's  the  same  old  George  Pickett;  instead  of 
pulling  my  leg  he's  squeezing  it." 

Grant  is  going  to  take  Rufus,  Suckley  and 
myself  to  ride  this  afternoon  to  show  me  the 
changes  since  I  was  last  here,  years  ago. 

To-morrow,  if  all  goes  well,  I'll  start  back 
to  what  is  worth  more  to  me  than  all  I've  lost 
—my  precious  wife,  who  was  as  queenly  and 
gracious  and  glorious  as  Mrs.  Edwards  in  one 
room  in  a  boarding  house  in  exile  as  she  was 
in  Petersburg  in  a  palatial  home  when  her 
husband  was  the  Department  Commander  and 
she  had  not  only  "vassals  and  slaves  at  her 
side,"  but  the  General  Commanding  and  all 
his  soldiers  and  our  world  at  her  feet. 

Your  Devoted  Soldier. 
187 


XL 

From  New  York  After  Refusing  the   Com- 
mand of  the  Egyptian  Army 

O,  you  would  "leave  it  all  to  my  better 
judgment,"  most  wise  Little  One,  and 
would  not  advise  me,  but  after  I  had  decided 
fully  I  was  to  read  the  mysterious  sealed  note 
— "not  to  be  opened  till  after  you  have  de- 
cided." 

At  the  banquet  last  night  I  opened  and  read 
the  letter  and  then  passed  it  over  to  General 
E.  P.  Alexander,  General  Ingalls  and  Doctor 
Suckley.  They  all  shook  their  heads  disap- 
provingly. I  pointed  to  the  instructions, 
"Not  to  be  opened  till  after  you  have  de- 
cided," and  said  that  I  had  already  decided 
and  the  note  only  showed  that  we  are  "two 
souls  with  but  a  single  thought." 

Now,  don't  you  know,  my  darling,  that  I 
knew  your  opinion  before  just  as  well  as  after 
I  had  read  your  sealed  letter?  Of  course  I 
knew  that  you  did  not  want  me  to  go  and  that, 

188 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

as  you  prettily  put  it,  "We've  had  glory 
enough,  and  war  enough,  with  its  hardships 
and  separations  and  dangers,  and  now  we  just 
want  each  other  forever  and  forevermore." 
Yes,  my  darling,  we  want  each  other  and  a 
home,  with  a  spiked  fence  around  it  and  a  key 
to  the  road  gate,  for  us  alone, — just  us,  for- 
ever and  forevermore. 

My  friends  all  think  that  I  am  making  a 
great  mistake  in  refusing  this  magnanimous 
offer  of  the  Khedive.  They  hold  that  I  am 
sacrificing  my  future  and  signing  the  death- 
warrant  to  ambition  and  success.  General 
Alexander  has  accepted  and  will  take  com- 
mand of  the  Egyptian  armies ;  Egypt  could  not 
have  a  finer  officer.  Last  night  at  the  farewell 
dinner  the  Khedive's  last  telegram  was  handed 
to  the  Commissioner — "Forward  Pickett  at 
any  cost."  It  was  a  most  flattering  compli- 
ment and  I  have  asked  permission  to  keep  it 
for  our  boy.  "The  boy  might  think  you  were 
a  brand  of  powder  or  a  keg  of  nails,"  said 
Ingalls,  who,  by  the  way,  is  disgusted  at  my 
refusal.  But,  my  beautiful  wife,  he  has  not 
you;  and  love  such  as  yours  is  worth  all  the 
gold  and  glory  of  the  universe. 
189 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

To-morrow  I  shall  take  the  steamer  for 
home  without  one  regret  for  having  decided 
as  I  have, — just  you  and  I — just  ourselves 
"forever  and  forever" — 

Your  Soldier. 


igo 


XLI 

A  Letter  From    Turkey   Island,1   During  a 
Short  Absence  of  His  Wife 

IT  is  Thursday  and  the  cottage  is  so  empty — 
so  desolate  without  my  darling.  Even 
Rufus  feels  the  absence  of  its  beautiful  mis- 
tress and  a  few  minutes  ago,  to  show  his  sym- 
pathy for  his  lonesome  master,  brought  and 
laid  on  my  knee  a  little  slipper  which,  if  I 
did  not  know  it  belonged  to  my  own  fairy 
princess,  would  make  me  think  that  another 
Cinderella  with  a  tinier  foot  had  also  forgot- 
ten the  midnight  hour.  I  gave  no  evidence 
of  my  appreciation  of  his  effort  to  comfort  me 
and  Rufus  trotted  off  and  brought  me  the 
other  slipper.  "Good  dog,"  I  said,  "good 
dog,"  patting  him  on  the  head.  Then  fon- 
dling the  little  slippers  and  putting  them  be- 

1  The  old  ancestral  home  called  by  the  Federal  soldiers  Tur- 
key Bend,  is  in  Henrico  Co.,  which  is  one  of  the  original  shires 
into  which  Virginia  was  divided  in  1634. 
191 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

side  me  I  took  up  my  pencil  and  pad  to  tell 
you  all  about  it. 

Presently,  looking  around,  I  saw  Rufus 
planning  to  bring  me  everything  in  the  room 
belonging  to  you.  He  has  a  lot  of  dog  sense 
and  I  tried  to  make  him  understand  that  the 
slippers  had  been  sufficiently  effective  in  con- 
soling me,  but  he  would  not  be  convinced  until 
I  whistled  our  song,  "Believe  me,  if  all  those 
endearing  young  charms."  Then  trying  to 
howl  an  accompaniment  and  failing,  he 
wagged  his  tail,  lay  down  at  my  feet  and  went 
to  sleep. 

Every  day  when  I  come  in  to  dinner  he 
trots  up  in  front  of  your  picture  and  barks 
till  I  take  it  down,  then  looking  down  at  it 
barks  again,  while  I  encourage  him,  saying, 
"Tell  her  all  about  it,  old  man;  tell  her  all 
about  it."  When  he  has  told  you  about  it  he 
lies  down  beside  it,  his  paw  on  the  frame, 
wagging  his  tail  and  looking  up  at  me  till  he 
thinks  I  have  shown  sufficient  appreciation  of 
his  admiration  and  devotion  to  you,  and  then 
he  jumps  up  and  points  and  barks  at  the  place 
on  the  rack  from  which  it  was  taken  until  it  is 
duly  kissed  and  replaced.     Oh,  he's  a  great 

IQ2 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

dog,  little  one,  and  great  company  for  me, 
but  both  he  and  I  and  everything  else  are  lone- 
some for  you  and  we  have  promised  our  souls 
that  when  you  come  back  we  will  vie  with 
each  other  in  our  efforts  to  make  you  happy. 

Already  the  hens  have  commenced  laying 
again,  the  butter  is  piling  up  to  be  made  into 
cakes  and  good  things.  Your  new  little  calf 
is  a  beauty,  but  I  shall  send  him  off  and  sell 
him  before  you  get  back,  for  you  would  never 
allow  him  to  be  separated  from  his  mother  and 
would  let  him  go  on  extracting  her  milk  till  he 
was  a  man — you  great  tender-hearted  darling! 
The  corn  and  wheat  are  beautiful,  the  vege- 
tables fine  and  the  flowers  we  planted  all 
breathe  of  your  purity  and  sweetness.  The 
cutting  from  the  Poe  rosebush  which  Mrs. 
Allen  gave  us  is  full  of  buds ;  so  you  see  every- 
thing above  the  ground  and  in  the  ground  at 
our  Turkey  Island  home  is  waiting  for  your 
blessing. 

This  morning  I  took  my  gun  and  Rufus  and 
killed  five  partridges  and  two  rabbits.  I  gave 
one  rabbit  to  Mr.  Sims  and  one  to  Uncle  Tom. 
The  birds  I  sent  to  Lizzie.  As  I  was  coming 
on  home  I  stopped  and  rested  in  the  cool  and 
193 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

calm  of  the  forest  beside  the  old  gray  broken 
monument  where  we  have  so  often  made  love 
and  told  each  other  fairy  tales  and  wandered 
about  and  made  thought  pictures  of  our  Wil- 
liam and  Mary  Randolph,  who  erected  it  away 
back  in  1771.  I  wonder,  little  one,  if  from 
their  celestial  home  they  can  see  the  pictur- 
esque beauty  which  I  see  and  which  I  wish  I 
could  put  into  words.  Do  you  remember  the 
inscription  on  one  of  the  sides  of  the  monu- 
ment?— "The  foundation  of  this  pillar  was 
laid  in  1771,  when  all  the  great  rivers  of  this 
country  were  swept  by  inundations  never  be- 
fore experienced,  which  changed  the  face  of 
nature  and  left  traces  of  their  violence  that 
will  remain  for  ages!"  As  I  read  over  this 
inscription  I  feel  sorry  that  the  thought  to  erect 
a  monument  to  commemorate  any  kind  of  dis- 
aster should  ever  have  been  born.  Time's 
soothing  wings  bless  always,  and  not  only  have 
the  ravages  of  the  flood  which  this  monument 
was  erected  to  commemorate  been  long  ago 
forgotten,  but  the  memories  of  ravages  and 
horrors  of  a  yesterday  far,  far  more  terrible 
are,  thank  God,  being  effaced. 

194 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

The  birds  are  nesting  and  songs  are  being 
born  just  where  Butler's  vandals  mutilated  and 
broke  off  the  top  of  this  monument,  hunting 
for  hidden  treasure.  Some  of  the  seeds  which 
the  mother  birds  carried  to  their  young  have 
fallen  by  the  wayside  and  taken  root  and  now 
out  of  the  jagged,  broken  top  grow  a  greenery 
of  unknown  vines  and  plants  and  flowers. 
The  old  colonial  home  of  my  forefathers,  with 
its  rare  old  mahoganies  and  paintings,  which 
Butler  sacked  and  desecrated  and  then 
burned,  has  been  replaced  by  a  sweet  little 
cottage  home  built  by  ourselves,  all  our  very 
own,  and  consecrated  to  love  and  contentment, 
with  furnishings  so  simple  and  plain  that  we 
are  not  afraid  of  using  them. 

No,  my  sweetheart,  we  don't  want  any 
monuments  to  mark  any  of  the  woes  and  hor- 
rors of  the  past.  We  must  build  one  of  hope 
and  faith  and  peace  and  mercy  and  joy,  the 
foundation  of  which  is  already  laid  in  our 
hearts. 

Listen — I  hear  old  Sims'  step  on  the  porch. 
I  hear  him  knocking  his  pipe  against  the  pil- 
lars— so,  a  Dios.  He  will  tell  me  the  same 
195 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

old  stories  over  again  and  I  shall  listen  and 
laugh  as  though  I  heard  them  for  the  first 
time — dear  old  Sims. 

Good  night — sweet  dreams.  Angels  guard 
you  while  I  hear  of  Lafayette  and  Nelson  and 
Marshall,  through  the  clouds  of  old  Sims' 
tobacco  smoke  for  the  hundredth,  yes,  thou- 
sandth time. 

Your  lonesome 

Soldier. 


196 


XLII 

Concerning  a  Slight  Illness  and  the  Business 
Troubles  of  a  Soldier 

YOU  are  always  right,  my  darling  Sally, 
and  your  husband  is  only  right  when  he 
is  guided  by  you.  Pretty  generally  he  listens 
to  his  oracle  and  when  he  doesn't  he  wishes  to 
the  Lord  he  had.  The  morning  I  left,  when 
you  urged  that  I  wear  the  suit  I  had  been 
wearing  and  I  claimed  that  I  hadn't  time  to 
change — "Then  please  take  it  with  you  and 
change  on  the  boat,"  you  plead.  Well,  dear- 
est, I  was  mean.  I  wouldn't  and  I  didn't  and 
your  obstinate  soldier  was  not  out  of  sight  of 
the  sweet  lone  figure  standing  on  the  wharf 
waving  to  him  the  love  signals  and  the  God- 
speed of  our  code  before  he  was  abusing  him- 
self as  an  ingrate  in  refusing  anything  that 
the  sweetest,  most  beautiful  woman  and  the 
best  wife  in  the  world  could  ask  of  him — 
"Well,  dem  dat  dances  is  'bleeged  ter  pay  de 
197 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

fiddler,"  and  your  husband  is  paying — he  is 
being  punished,  for  he  caught  cold  on  the 
boat,  had  a  chill,  followed  by  sore  throat  and 
pain  in  limbs  and  back. 

I  stopped  only  a  day  in  Petersburg  to  see 
our  agent  there,  then  came  over  here,  went 
to  the  Exchange  and  went  directly  to  bed  and 
sent  for  Dr.  Beal.  He  has  been  very  atten- 
tive, coming  twice  a  day.  Julia  and  Wash 
took  me  in  charge  at  once  and,  as  usual,  are 
as  good  as  gold,  and  so  is  everyone,  as  to  that, 
but  each  and  all  in  turn  prescribe  a  sure 
remedy  and  urge  my  taking  it.  Wash  in- 
sists upon  rubbing  me  with  "turkentime  en  den 
puttin'  on  a  hot  ingun  poultice,  en  'pon  top  er 
dat  drinkin'  a  good  hot  scotch,"  declaring 
"dey'll  sho'  en  mingulate  up  wid  one-an- 
nudder  en  do  de  business  en  bre'k  up  dis 
'fluenza  dat's  got  'session  er  you,  Marse 
George.  Don't  you  go  projickin'  wid  doc- 
tor's medicines;  pills  is  dang'us  en  dey  ain't 
gwine  ter  oust  no  'fluenzas,  dey  jes'  gwine  ter 
upset  en  sturbulate  de  balance  er  yo'  body  dat 
ain'  got  de  'fluenza  in  it  en  mek  dat  part  sick, 
too.  Ef  Miss  Sally  wuz  here  she'd  say, 
'Wash,  you  suttinly  is  right — g'long  fetch  up 

198 


THE    HEART   OF   A    SOLDIER 

a  nice  hot  scotch  en  git  one  fer  yo'se'f  while 
youse  down  dar  gittin'  yo  Marse  peorge's. 
Lord,  I  knows  Miss  Sally." 

That  settled  it  and  I  compromised  on  the 
hot  scotch — but  I  was  firm  and  would  not 
yield  to  Julia's  entreaties  to  be  permitted  to 
bring  me  Mrs.  Marshall's  flannel  petticoat  to 
wrap  around  my  throat.  "What  would  the 
judge  say?"  I  asked.  "De  Jedge,  Marse 
George? — De  Jedge  ain'  'bleeged  ter  know 
nuttin'  *'t  all  bout  it.  Needer  him  ner  needer 
Miss  Sally,  nuther.  Dem  whar's  robbed,  en 
don'  know  dey's  robbed,  ain'  robbed,  Marse 
George,  en  ain'  no  wusser  off  ef  dey  had  dan  ef 
dey  hadn't,"  she  argued — but  I  was  adamant; 
her  arguments  were  of  no  avail.  She 
"curchied"  her  thanks  for  the  silver  piece  I 
gave  her  and  left  me  with  the  compliment  that 
I  asho'  was  one  bridegroom-husband — alius 
honeymoonin'  wid  my  own  queen  bee,  wedder 
wid  her  er  widout  her,  en  dat  Miss  Sally  ought 
ter  be  one  proud  white  lady" — Is  she? — bless 
her! 

Yesterday  when  I  wrote  I  did  not  tell  you 
how  sick  I  had  been  or  was,  nor  how  lonesome, 
nor  how  I  longed  for  your  soothing,  gentle 
199 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

touch,  your  ministering  care.  I  should  only 
have  made  you  anxious.  You  could  not  have 
come  to  me.  Oh,  my  sweetheart,  I  think  of 
you  all  the  time,  and  I  swear  every  time  I 
leave  you,  that  I'll  never  leave  you  again,  that 
if  business  calls  I  must  take  my  darling  with 
me.  If  I  could  only  lay  the  treasures  of  the 
universe  at  your  tiny  little  feet. 

But  this  business,  I'm  afraid,  will  not  earn 
my  cough  drops  or  your  violets  and,  oh  dar- 
ling, it  is  such  a  crucifixion.  You  don't  know 
how  abhorrent  it  is  to  me.  I  spur  myself  on 
all  the  time  with  this  thought,  that  it  is  for 
my  darling.  The  day  I  came  up  on  the  boat, 
I  took  out  two  policies,  one  for  $7,000  and  one 
for  $10,000.  The  men  were  both  old  soldiers 
belonging  to  my  dear  old  division  and  one 
of  them  said  they  had  to  run  me  down  and 
almost  tie  me  to  make  me  insure  their  lives. 
You  know,  dear,  I  can't  do  it.  I'd  sooner 
face  a  cannon  than  ask  a  man  to  take  out  a 
policy  with  me.  Your  soldier  is  nothing  but 
a  soldier;  the  war  is  over  and  he  is  no  more 
account.  The  company  tells  me  that  my 
agents  must  do  the  soliciting,   but  I'll  feel 

200 


THE    HEART   OF   A    SOLDIER 

like  a  thief  to  take  a  commission  on  what  they 
have  worked  for  and  earned. 

Yesterday  when  I  came  through  Petersburg 
I  went,  as  I  told  you,  to  our  office.  J.  B.  B., 
our  company's  agent,  was  sitting  with  his 
chair  tilted  back — foot  on  the  table,  smoking 
a  bad  smelling  pipe  and  reading  "Macaria." 
"Hello,  General,  hello,"  he  said,  not  rising. 
"Sent  in  six  policies  this  week,  old  man." 
"On  your  familiarity  or  courtly  manners — 
which?"  "Neither,  old  man,  on  gall,  gall, 
old  man,  gall  and  grub.  Come,  have  a  drink 
— ever  read  'Macaria'?"  With  the  most 
studied  politeness  and  coldness  I  declined  his 
offer  and  in  my  most  dignified  manner  asked 
permission  to  look  over  the  company's  books. 
"Come,  what's  eating  you,  old  man?"  he 
asked,  bringing  his  chair  down  with  a  bang 
and  slapping  me  on  the  back.  Then  he  pro- 
fanely informed  me  that  I'd  have  to  unbuckle 
a  few  holes  and  thaw  out  if  I  wanted  to  paint 
the  monkey's  tail  sky-blue. 

Alas,  little  one,  I  am  afraid  your  Soldier 
isn't  much  of  an  artist.  He  longs  to  give  his 
precious  wife  all  the  luxuries  and  comforts 

201 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

and  everything  that  is  beautiful — but  he  can't 
thaw  out,  my  darling,  and  he  can't  paint  that 
monkey's  tail  sky-blue,  and,  sweetheart,  it 
makes  me  crawl  and  creep  to  be  associated 
with  artists  who  can.  I  was  wondering  as  I 
came  over  whether  it  would  be  better  to  send 
our  boy  to  West  Point  or  get  him  a  paint- 
brush. We  have  time  to  decide  that,  how- 
ever, for  he  is  just  a  little  over  eleven. 

Here  comes  the  Colonel  and  "old  Mistiss," 
and  by  the  way,  everybody  sends  love  and 
messages  to  you  and  our  boy. 

Now,  my  own  beautiful  wife,  don't  be  anx- 
ious about  me,  and  forgive  this  long,  rambling 
letter. 

It's  snowing  hard — I  mean,  easy.  The 
snow  is  "beautiful"  but  I'm  so  homesick  for 
you. 

Your  loving,  good-for-nothing 

Soldier. 


202 


xliu 

On  the  Occasion  of  the  Memorial  Services  in 
Honor  of  Those  who  died  at  Gettysburg 

ALL  the  way  to  the  station,  my  darling,  I 
was  asking  myself  whether  I  was  right 
in  yielding  to  your  solicitations  and  leaving 
our  sick  child,  with  all  the  resulting  care 
and  responsibility  resting  on  your  ever-brave 
shoulders.  And  once,  sweetheart,  after  think- 
ing very  seriously  over  it  I  was  almost  tempted 
to  turn  and  go  back,  when  the  appealing  words 
of  your  voice  echoed  through  my  soul.  "Even 
if  I  knew  our  child  would  die  while  you  were 
gone,  I  would  not  have  you  neglect  this  call 
to  honor  your  boys  whom  you  led  to  their 
death."  And,  instead  of  turning  back  I  said: 
"Drive  faster,  please,  John  David;  I  wouldn't 
miss  my  train  for  anything." — You  blessed 
little  sermon! 

I  made  the  train  in  plenty  of  time  and  your 
mother,  to  whom  I  had  telegraphed  at  Ivor, 
203 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

came  to  the  station,  bringing  the  good  tidings 
that  your  brother  was  out  of  danger.  I  did 
not  tell  her  that  our  little  George  was  ill, 
lest  it  might  make  her  anxious,  and  I  knew 
that  her  duty  was  beside  her  sick  boy,  your 
brother. 

I  would  have  been  so  thankful  if  you,  my 
sweet,  beautiful  bride,  and  our  precious  little 
"war-baby"  could  have  come  with  me. 
Everybody  asks  about  you  and  the  boy  and 
sends  love  and  expresses  sorrow  that  you  could 
not  come.  A  delegation  of  my  old  soldiers 
met  me  at  the  station  and,  though  some  of  our 
relatives  had  prepared  to  have  us  with  them, 
I  agreed  to  the  arrangement  of  the  Committee 
and  the  demand  of  the  Governor  and  was 
taken  to  the  Executive  Mansion  as  the  guest 
of  the  State. 

All  the  evening  and  the  next  morning  until 
it  was  time  to  form,  old  comrades  came  in,  in 
groups  and  single  file.  They  told  of  their  ex- 
periences, officers  and  privates  alike,  discussed 
the  Pennsylvania  campaign  and  the  three  days' 
fight,  their  voices  falling  to  a  whisper  as  they 
spoke  of  those  whose  memory  we  had  come  to 
honor — our  gallant  dead  at  Gettysburg — our 

204 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

brave  boys  who  gave  "their  last  full  measure 
of  devotion"  to  duty. 

I  had  been  made  Chief  Marshal — a  sad, 
solemn,  sacred  office  for  me — of  all  the  Army. 
Such  love,  such  reverence  was  Christ-born. 
You  cannot  conceive  of  it.  From  the  old 
Market  to  the  Cemetery  of  Hollywood  the 
streets,  sidewalks,  windows  and  housetops  were 
crowded.  There  must  have  been  twelve  thou- 
sand people  at  Hollywood.  Such  a  demon- 
stration of  devotion  and  sympathy  was,  I 
think,  never  before  witnessed  on  earth. 
Think  of  it,  my  darling,  so  penetrating,  so  uni- 
versal a  oneness  of  love  and  respect  and  rever- 
ence existed  that  there  was  a  stillness,  an  awe- 
someness,  save  for  those  necessary  sounds — the 
clanking  of  swords,  the  tramp  of  horses  and 
the  martial  tread  of  men  keeping  time  with 
funeral  marches — the  solemn  requiem.  No 
cheers,  no  applause,  only  loving  greetings  from 
tear-stained  faces,  heads  bent  in  reverence, 
clasped  hands  held  out  to  us  as  we  passed 
along.  As  I  saw  once  more  the  courage-lit 
faces  of  my  brave  Virginians,  again  I  heard 
their  cry — "We'll  follow  you,  Marse  George!" 
From  their  eternal  silence  those  who  marched 
205 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

heroically  to  death  looked  down  upon  us  yes- 
terday and  were  sad.  My  darling,  you  can- 
not know — no,  you  cannot  know! 

As  I  clasped  the  hand  of  one  after  another 
of  those  who  crowded  around  me  I  was 
greeted  with  the  words — "My  husband  was 
killed  at  Gettysburg."  "My  son  is  lying 
there  among  the  dead" — "My  brother  was 
with  you  there  and  he  has  just  come  back  to 
me" — so  many  crushed  hearts  filling  my  heart 
with  grief.  Oh,  my  Sally,  if  the  cry  of  my 
soul  had  been  voiced  it  would  have  been  the 
echo  of  that  at  Gethsemane. 

After  the  services  General  Joseph  R.  An- 
derson had  a  number  of  us  old  fellows  come 
to  his  house  and  as  we  stood  around  his 
sumptuous  board  the  solemnity  of  the  scene 
was  almost  like  that  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 
Though  we  were  old  soldiers,  neither  the 
march  nor  the  battle  was  mentioned.  The 
only  war-time  reference  was  that  some  of  my 
men  called  me  by  the  old  war-time  title, 
"Marse  George."  Among  the  guests  were 
some  of  our  West  Point  comrades  whose  only 
vocation,  like  mine,  was  war.  Our  tents  are 
folded  now  and  we  parted,  going  off,  each  to 

206 


THE    HEART   OF    A    SOLDIER 

his  work ;  one  to  the  farm,  another  to  the  trade ; 
one  to  seek  some  position;  one  to  one  place, 
one  to  another;  and  I  to  return  to  my  beautiful 
wife  and  my  sick  baby,  my  only  joy  and  my 
life,  knowing  that  what  is  best  will  come. 

Your  Loving  Soldier. 


207 


XLIV 

Written  while  Away  from  Home  after  the 
Death  of  his  Youngest  Boy 

POOR  broken  lily,  I  hated  so  to  leave  you. 
The  haunted  look  on  your  sweet,  tired 
face  haunts  my  heart  and  I  was  almost  tempted 
to  disobey  the  company's  orders  and  not  go. 
The  doctor  said  you  were  not  strong  enough 
to  come  with  your  Soldier,  that  you  were  all 
run  down  by  your  long  watch,  sleepless  nights 
and  nursing,  and  then  the  transplanting  of  the 
precious  flower  into  the  Father's  garden  at  last 
— having  to  give  the  boy  back — was  more 
than  you  could  bear.  Ah,  sweetheart,  try  to 
be  generous,  too,-  and  give  him  to  the  Heavenly 
Father,  being  thankful  for  His  having  lent 
him  to  you  for  so  long.  Dear,  beautiful 
mother  of  an  angel,  come,  say  "Thy  will  be 
done"  and  try  to  recognize  the  wisdom  of  our 
Lord.  See,  my  lily,  how  well  your  Soldier 
has  learned  his  lesson.     It  was  you  who  taught 

208 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

him  to  believe — to  look  up  and  trust.  Come, 
now — take  your  spelling  book  and  let  him 
teach  you  the  Word. 

How  tenderly,  loyally,  reverently  I  do  love 
you,  my  wife,  and  how  I  want  to  spare  you 
every  hurt.  I'll  be  starting  back  when  you  get 
this.  Love  to  our  boy  and  tell  him  to  look 
after  his  "dear  mother"  for  his  "dear  father," 
that  he  is  our  little  man  and  has  got  double 
duty  to  do  from  now  on.  Ask  him  to  think 
about  what  he  wants  for  his  birthday.  Any- 
thing but  a  gun  he  can  have. 

Think,  my  darling,  nearly  eleven  years  of 
perfect  bliss — such  happiness  as  man  never 
had.  God  show  me  how  to  be  worthy  of  such 
a  wife. 

The  horses  are  at  the  door,  my  little  one — 
I  must  say  a  Dios. 

Lovingly  and  forever  and  ever, 

Your  Soldier. 


the  END 


209 


PICKETT'S  CHARGE  AT  GETTYSBURG 

[Editorial  Note] 

PICKETT'S  charge  was  the  culminating  point  in  the 
three  days'  struggle  at  Gettysburg.  Directed 
against  a  force  strongly  entrenched  and  superior  in 
numbers  it  failed ;  but  in  failing  it  made  immortal  the  fame 
of  all  those  who  took  part  in  it. 

For  two  days  and  a  half  the  battle  had  raged  between 
the  armies  of  Lee  and  Meade,  the  advantage  being  with 
neither  side,  when  at  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
third  day  Lee  massed  his  forces  on  Seminary  Ridge  and 
prepared  for  a  final  assault  upon  the  Union  position. 
The  attack  was  begun  with  a  tremendous  artillery  duel 
which  shook  the  surrounding  hills.  It  lasted  two  hours. 
The  Federal  guns  then  ceased  their  fire,  and  Lee  ordered 
the  advance  of  the  attacking  columns. 

This  force  consisted  of  Pickett's  and  Pettigrew's  divi- 
sions, the  brunt  of  the  assault  falling  upon  Pickett.  At 
the  order,  the  columns  moved  forward  as  on  dress  parade, 
their  ranks  unbroken,  their  arms  glistening  in  the  July 
sun.  As  they  advanced,  however,  the  Union  artillery 
which  had  appeared  to  be  silenced  opened  upon  them  with 
shot  and  shell,  tearing  great  holes  in  the  lines,  and  as 
they  came  nearer  the  men  were  met  with  a  rain  of  canis- 
ter and  shrapnel.  In  the  face  of  this  terrific  fire  they  did 
211 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

not  falter.  It  was  not  until  they  came  within  striking 
distance  of  the  Union  line,  when  a  flame  of  musketry  burst 
forth  before  which  nothing  could  live,  that  their  ranks 
broke  and,  although  a  handful  of  men  led  by  Armistead 
crossed  the  Union  works,  the  remainder  of  the  glory- 
crowned  division  were  forced  to  retire. 

Some  idea  of  the  decimating  character  of  this  assault 
may  be  gained  from  the  fact  that  out  of  more  than  5000 
men  in  Pickett's  division  who  started  on  the  mile  long 
march  across  the  field  of  death  but  1500  returned.  In 
the  two  divisions  that  made  up  the  attacking  column  over 
5000  men  were  lost.  Two  of  Pickett's  brigadiers  were 
killed,  the  other  wounded ;  and  but  one  field  officer  in 
his  command  came  out  of  the  battle  unhurt.  In  one  of 
his  letters  in  this  volume  the  general  gives  a  more  de- 
tailed account  of  the  losses  among  his  officers. 

The  charge  of  Pickett  and  his  men  has  been  made  the 
basis  of  much  unfavorable  criticism,  directed  chiefly 
against  the  commanding  general  of  the  Southern  forces 
and  his  chief  lieutenants  at  Gettysburg.  In  this  crit- 
icism Pickett  has  taken  no  part,  although  he  states  re- 
peatedly in  the  letters  to  his  wife  that  if  promised  sup- 
ports had  materialized  the  attack  would  have  been  suc- 
cessful. It  is  generally  admitted  that  the  brigades  of 
Wilcox  and  Perry  which  should  have  supported  Pickett 
were  slow  in  starting  and  became  separated  from  the  main 
attacking  body,  rendering  it  no  assistance. 

In  his  first  official  report  to  General  Lee  after  the 
battle,  Pickett  pointed  out  without  reserve  the  circum- 
stances  that  were   responsible   for   the   disastrous   result. 

212 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Lee,  however,  requested  him  to  withdraw  this  report. 
His  letter  so  doing  is  to  be  found  in  War  Records  (Vol- 
ume 27,  Part  3,  Page  1075).     It  reads  as  follows: 

General  George  E.  Pickett,  Commanding,  &c.  You 
and  your  men  have  crowned  themselves  with  glory;  but 
we  have  the  enemy  to  fight,  and  must  carefully,  at  this 
critical  moment,  guard  against  dissensions  which  the  re- 
flections in  your  report  would  create.  I  will,  therefore, 
suggest  that  you  destroy  both  copy  and  original,  substitu- 
ting one  confined  to  casualties  merely.  I  hope  all  will 
yet  be  well. 

I  am,  with  respect,  your  obedient  servant, 

R.  E.  Lee,  General. 

In  accordance  with  Lee's  wish,  General  Pickett  with- 
drew and  destroyed  his  report  of  the  engagement.  Fur- 
thermore, he  looked  upon  Lee's  suggestion  as  a  command 
that  was  binding  upon  him  for  all  time  and  he  has  never 
divulged  the  contents  of  this  report,  except  in  the  letter 
to  his  wife  (written  before  Lee's  request  was  made) 
which  appears  in  this  volume  on  page  97.  In  view,  how- 
ever, of  the  General's  sense  of  obligation  in  this  matter, 
Mrs.  Pickett  feels  that  the  details  of  the  battle  as  re- 
ported therein  should  be  withheld  from  publication  and 
accordingly  this  section  of  the  letter  is  omitted,  as  stated 
in  footnote  on  page  100. 

General  Lee  has  been  criticized  for  ordering  the  attack 
on  Cemetery  Ridge  with  an  inadequate  force  and  under 
conditions  that  made  its  failure  probable.  In  explana- 
tion of  his  action,  Lee  said  in  his  report  (War  Records, 
213 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

Volume  27,  Part  2,  page  321)  that  his  batteries  "having 
nearly  exhausted  their  ammunition  in  the  protracted  can- 
nonade that  preceded  the  advance  of  the  infantry,  were 
unable  to  reply,  or  render  the  necessary  support  to  the 
attacking  party.  Owing  to  this  fact,  which  was  un- 
known to  me  when  the  assault  took  place,  the  enemy  were 
enabled  to  throw  a  strong  force  of  infantry  against  our 
left,  already  wavering  under  a  concentrated  fire  of  artil- 
lery from  the  ridge  in  front,  and  from  Cemetery  Hill  on 
the  left." 

Elsewhere  he  describes  the  formation  which  took  place 
in  Pickett's  charge,  as  follows: 

"General  Longstreet  ordered  forward  the  column  of 
attack,  consisting  of  Pickett's  and  Heth's  divisions,  in 
two  lines,  Pickett  on  the  right.  Wilcox's  brigade  marched 
in  rear  of  Pickett's  right,  to  guard  that  flank,  and  Heth's 
was  supported  by  Lane's  and  Scales'  brigades,  under 
General  Trimble." 

General  Longstreet  has  described  the  charge  as  seen 
under  his  own  eyes  in  these  words: 

"I  dismounted  to  relieve  my  horse  and  was  sitting  on 
a  rail  fence  watching  very  closely  the  movements  of  the 
troops.  .  .  .  Pickett  had  reached  a  point  near  the  Federal 
lines.  A  pause  was  made  to  close  ranks  and  mass  for  the 
final  plunge.  The  troops  on  Pickett's  left,  although  ad- 
vancing, were  evidently  a  little  shaky.  I  was  watching 
the  troops  supporting  Pickett  and  saw  plainly  they  could 
not  hold  together  ten  minutes  longer.  I  called  his  (Col- 
onel Freemantle's)  attention  to  the  wavering  condition  of 
the  two  divisions  of  the  Third  Corps  and  said  they  would 

214 


THE    HEART    OF    A    SOLDIER 

not  hold,  that  Pickett  would  strike  and  be  crushed,  and 
the  attack  would  be  a  failure.  As  the  division  threw  it- 
self against  the  Federal  line  Garnett  fell  and  expired. 
The  Confederate  flag  was  planted  in  the  Federal  line, 
and  immediately  Armistead  fell  mortally  wounded  at  the 
feet  of  the  Federal  soldiers.  The  wavering  division  then 
seemed  appalled,  broke  their  ranks  and  retired. 

"The  only  thing  Pickett  said  of  his  charge  was  that  he 
was  distressed  at  the  loss  of  his  command.  He  thought 
he  should  have  had  two  of  his  brigades  that  had  been  left 
in  Virginia;  with  them  he  felt  that  he  would  have  broken 
the  lines." 


215 


